Legacy: Letters from eminent parents to their daughters, Menon, Sudha [books to read to increase intelligence TXT] 📗

tell you my children, that there is no substitute for perseverance, hard work, determination, and passion for what you choose to do. If you love what you do, nothing else matters—not awards, nor compensation, not even the gratification of seeing your face in newspapers or television.

By the time I was sixteen, I was the national badminton champion. Often the prize for the effort was a candle-stand, a photo-frame, or a wooden plaque.

It was only when I won the All England Championship that the prize-money became significant—£3,000—a huge amount in those days. But that did not distract me from the sheer joy of having been instrumental in putting India on the global map of this game.

In a small way, I think, my winning that championship was the turning point for the game in India and it cleared the way for other champions to come in later.

The success, the name and fame, the Arjuna Award and Padma Shri, were all by-products of my love for the game.

Deepika, we know that you are in the film industry because of your love for it. Early on in life, even as a child of nine or ten, we knew that you were meant for modelling and to be under the arc-lights. You were a natural.

Even so, at eighteen, when you told us that you wanted to shift to Mumbai to pursue a career in modelling, it was hard for us to come to terms with the decision. We felt you were too young and too inexperienced to be alone in a big city, in an industry we knew nothing about.

In the end we decided to let you follow your heart, like my father had taught me all those years ago, as the only way to live fully.

In the sixties, most middle-class families had their sons into engineering or medicine as that guaranteed a secure and stable future. Your uncle, Pradeep, and I were Junior National Champions together, but he pursued his interest in engineering and went off to the US for a career. I, on the other hand, had no intention of going down that path, and I was fortunate that my father gave me the freedom to follow my passion for a game which held very little promise of ever making money. His approval changed the course of my life. Had he forced me, I would have been a miserable, average engineer plodding through life.

When the time came for you to make a decision about your future, we thought it would be cruel to not give our child the opportunity to pursue a dream that she lived and breathed for. If you succeeded, it would make us proud, but even if you didn’t, you would not have any regrets that you did not try. In retrospect, it has turned out to be the best thing we did.

In the last few years, we have seen you mature into a young woman who has her head on her shoulders. Maybe it is a result of the responsibilities that came your way at an early age, but we are proud of the independent, sensible, focused young woman that you have become, a woman who effortlessly manages the things that compete for her attention every day—a demanding career, keeping house, managing the staff, and keeping in touch with family.

Sometimes parents underestimate their children’s capabilities which brings me to my other belief: you can either like what you do or you can be passionate about what you do. If you only like what you do, you will become an average player, but if you love what you do, there is every chance that you will excel at it. For then, no hardship, no sacrifice will be too much to achieve your goal. Anisha, you want to be a professional golfer and I know you will let nothing come between you and that dream.

At sixteen years of age, when I was representing the country in badminton, I travelled second class and often in unreserved coaches on trains, sitting, eating, and sleeping outside filthy toilets in the train for a couple of days simply so that I could reach the training camp and better my game. I see that passion in you. I don’t know too many young people who work sixteen hours a day and I see that the fruits of that passion are already coming your way.

Deepika, I have learned that you can’t always win in life, that everything you want might not come your way, and events don’t always turn out as you want them to. To win some, you have to lose some. You have to learn to take life’s ups and downs in your stride. Looking back, the amount of effort that I put in my game never varied from the first day till my retirement, regardless of the money, the awards and recognition, winning or losing. Whatever I got in addition to playing was just added bonus.

Even during the toughest times, I focused on what I had, instead of dwelling on what I did not. I had the ability to make the best of the worst circumstances and remain steadfast to my goal. Thus, at the end of my career, I had no regrets, or any desire to ever return to the game, for I knew that I had truly given all to my passion.

Remember how I constantly tell you both about the importance of making your way up in the world without waiting for your parents to pull strings and make things happen for you? I believe it is best for children to work hard to make their dreams come true and to not have things handed to them on a platter. And it makes us immensely proud to see that both of you have followed our counsel and are making things happen for yourself.

When you are home visiting us, Deepika, you make your own bed, clear the table after meals, and sleep on the floor if there are guests at home. At home,