Nature had truly blessed the day; the golden circle hiding at the heart of sea, music of birds over me on my way back to home, and cool breeze that blew by me taking all my pain of the day made me feel blessed. That evening walking down the street I felt this was the most perfect day of my life. Everything was beautiful and it was as if dream-come-true and as I walked ahead my eyes caught the figure unusual of other days. Someone was struggling hard to move and as I reached to it I was taken aback to see an old lady laying on the sand and trying hard to get hold of her wheel chair. I helped her get on her chair and offered her my help. She said she lived in the nearby cottage, I pulled her chair and we moved towards her home. She thanked me and offered me a tea but as I was busy I had to deny her offer.
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From that day I never saw that lady and now almost years passed. I got busy with my life and had hardly time to see for her though I wished to learn more about the lady. However, time and situation never goes in the way we want. My life is now ruled by the bell on every hour and the ringing of bell at regular interval would mean change of classrooms for me. Running from one class to another with piles of books on one hand and attendance register on other has been rhythm of my life. Now the music that gives me peace or pleasure is not of songs of birds or winds but the murmuring of my students. Through these voices and murmurings are the voices of the ones who are receiving wisdom and the musics i have fallen in love with. Going after child in the class, narrating them fairy tales and explaining them the meaning hidden in those words has become part of my life.
One day I was taking the class on value education and asked students to tell what they understand about the value education, and surprisingly they came up with many good things. The stories talking about values, incidences and many were what my students came up with to my astonishment. However a little girl in the front row wrote the story about a girl who saved her mother, and concluded the story saying that “ My mother still blesses that girl who saved her life that day, I wish to be like her”. For next few days I wondered about the story and wanted to know about her mother. Luckily I got to meet her mother and I was surprised to see the same lady I met fifteen years ago on the road side. When she saw me, she wept out of gratitude and happiness.
One evening, laying on my bed I was wondering what actually I did that day that lady is still so happy to see me. But the words of my teacher assured me, “No matter how great or small your deeds are, all you have to do is, do it with love and respect” and may be that day I had done the same. Now when I look back, I vividly remember the face, growing red and black and shouting hard from the front. No matter how naughty and careless we were in class, their lesson always had the deep impression over us. Each day made me wiser, and showed me way to my destination. People are true to say that teachers are are like candles; they consume self to light the way for his/ her students. And they had exactly done the same; they had given up their pleasure running after students to make us read. Be there for us when we call for them no matter whether it’s mid- night or early morning. But most importantly they had taught me never to give up, face all situations with willing heart and half the thing will be done. My life was not bed of rose, I fell many a times but each time I had enough courage to get up, I never lost faith on myself and value I have received from my teachers helped me keep walking and now I am here. Remembering little girl saying that she wanted to be like me, I smiled.
It was beautiful day next morning; dark clouds had gone far away from me, golden rising sun has made all things beautiful.I walked inside the noisy class and on other bell, i gladly walked out only to enter another class to teach and be with the noises my students make. P.S: The author of this article is Bunu Tamang, English/Geography, Shercol. She is a guest writer for this blog.
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