It was my daughter’s open house at her primary school. She kept on pestering me to meet her class friends listen to their stories, their mischiefs. My daughter studied in the same school I had passed out from, reason being I always wanted my daughter to be moulded by those hands which shaped my present. But on her open house I was surprised to see all new faces among the academic staff. After all it had been around fifteen years since I passed out, I was a bit dissapointed about this restructure hence was hesitant or passive to meet any of her teachers much. After collecting her progress report we started heading back home. But my daughter as usual started emphasizing on meeting her Dimple mam, i tried to tell her that we would meet her next time. Actually I was quite disturbed seeing those high tech teachers and their mechanical way of dealing with kids, I am not saying there were bad but just that they lacked the warmth in their teachings. But my daughter was very adamant on meeting her Dimple mam, reluctantly I agreed and headed towards one of the classrooms. We knocked the door and stepped in, my 6 year old ran towards this lady and tugged her. Then I noticed her teacher was an old lady may be in her late 50s, hair all grey, somewhat weak in her posture, silver lined spectacles and red bordered goldenish cotton saree. I walked towards her, in order to greet her. On moving close to her teacher, I realised she was my childhood and most favorite Rajni mam. She was all favourite for her warm nature, caring and ever smiling gesture. She was our Maths teacher, who not only taught us maths but also narrated value add stories in her own unique and soft voice. We loved her because she was the one who not only made Maths our favourite subject, but also aporoached with problems physical, mental, emotional we always had to tell her and she helped us out of it. Looking at her I was so happy, nostalgic and just couldn’t control tears rolling down my eyes. She looked puzzled at me, I told her mam this my daughter Niksha and I am your ex student Nihara. She also held my hand and tears rolled down her eyes. She patted my head and enquired about my well being, my family. We both just could believe to meet each other. She then told me,”Your daughter is just a replica of your childhood. The way you plucked flowers on the way to school and forced me to tuck it into my hair. This little one plucks flowers, gets scolded by the gardener and gets thoses roses for me.” I turned towards my daughter and told her,” Darling, her name is Rajni mam not Dimple mam”. She looked back at her mam and stood in the cameraman pose and spoke aloud,”Smile please.” Rajni mam and myself smiled at her and she pointed out at her mam and said,”Look at those dimples Mama. Thats the reason I call her Dimple mam.”
We laughed at her silly but witty remark. She then handed over a small red rose to her Dimple mam and asked her to tuck it into her hair. I was so touched by all this and hence wished her Happy teachers day even when it was not one, I don’t know why I did so but I did what I felt.
Thankyou teachers and all my gurus who have poured every bit of your divine souls in shaping our futures n present.
Happy Teachers Day…..