I had often seen her sitting in the corridor, waiting for her father to come and pick her up. She was quiet and courteous. I soon got to know that she had a congenital heart condition – tricuspid atresia. Not many knew how serious it was. Much later I learnt how, at the tender age of 8 months, when other children were learning to crawl and play, she was visiting hospitals and undergoing extensive tests and complicated medical procedures.
A few years later, one April morning, when I entered my classroom, I found her sitting at one side of the room. It was the first day of the academic session and I discovered that she was going to be in my class.
My class that year, was a bright, creative and highly enthusiastic bunch of children who had just returned to school after the two year long online class mode. They were thrilled to be back and made no efforts to hide it. There used to be constant chatter and laughter and despite the soaring temperatures, the energy level remained high.
A quiet girl like Sutroye could easily have got overshadowed in a class like that but there was something about her that caught one’s attention. There was a steely strength and a sense of purpose and determination that exuded from her gentle, unobtrusive presence.
I soon discovered that she enjoyed writing and drawing and even spoke well. Despite her health issues, she would often take the lead to get group tasks organised. She even took part in a few Inter School events like MUN.
In the summer break that followed, she had to go to Bangalore for a check up and some medical procedures. She would keep me posted about the developments and at the same time enquire about things that needed to be done at the academic front. What I soon learnt was that she was abreast with all the work that needed to be done, whether they were school assignments or projects.
She returned to school earlier than expected. An important surgery that she had to undergo could not take place because of certain complications.
She was quieter than before when she returned. There was constant fatigue and even climbing stairs was an effort. She didn’t seem to be able to summon up the energy to be involved in activities. While the rest of the school was engaged in frenzied preparations for the annual sports, she sat in the library catching up with school work. We,at school, let her move at her own pace – allowing her to do the things that she felt comfortable doing.
An interaction with her sister, who had also been an ex student of the school, revealed that she was keen to become a cardiologist. She wanted to reach out to others who were facing similar heart complications. I learnt that she would record all her experiences so that she could share it with others who were grappling with hospital visits and heart related treatment.
Her final academic year in our school saw her working hard. There were several setbacks but she managed to fight them. Her marks right through the year were above 90. Her grit and determination truly knew no bounds.
Her board results surpassed all expectations – she was one of the top ten rank holders in the ICSE examination, with a full score in Biology.
Just a few days after the results, we lost our warrior princess.
Today, I cannot think of her without feeling a pang. I speak of her to anyone who feels hopeless or cowers down before a challenge. When the rest of the world gave reasons as to why something couldn’t be done, she showed us how and why it should be done.
She was brilliant, a fantastic human being – humble and true but most importantly, she was brave and strong. And the ones who gave her wings to dream were her family members – never giving up, ever supportive – stitching each of dreams into the fabric of her life.
Our warrior princess lives on as an inspiration, a beacon of hope and an epitome of strength and faith. She must be a star somewhere in the universe – her gentle light, weaving its way into the lives of those who knew her and the lives of those groping in the dark, for a way out.
In her own unique way, she has left her mark – our dear Sutroye.
Image : Farid Askerov ( Unsplash )
