Apr 3, 2011

Goodmorning Madam

Finally, I reached home, keeping bags on threshold of my home, a sigh of relief. After so long, I was back. With my mug filled with strong ginger tea, I climbed up the stairs; I started finding myself as a child who used to climb this stairs, resting hand on wall. I opened the door of storeroom. Its creaking sound irritates me no more, the innocent smile prevailed in my face, seeing the dust-laden, untouched, live things in store, seems more impactful in reminiscence. I started moving towards my cupboard, keys were hanging in the key socket and no wind across to play with them, and I used to hide them somewhere being a notorious child. Gush of dust came in my eyes as I opened the cupboard. I started taking out my belongings, my pens, pencil, drawing sheets with undimensioned images, not clearly visible like memories, but some of them have not faded the colors from it, like imprints in my mind. Some small notebooks with yellow pages and dog-eared ends bought a feel of being grown up. Memories started flooding back, the talks of classmates, uniform(whose belt was also kept as a sign of proud), changing of teaching faces after every class, their well pleated saris, with leather belt wrist watches, designer bindis and those silver foil kept as bookmarks, from consumed chocolates. I opened the notebook; my writing seems a Report Card of my mood swings, when I frown, writing goes at its worst but when happy, turns on to smooth cursive. Every alphabet represents my emotions, ‘f’ seems to be stubborn, ‘d’ seems bit arrogant, and ‘s’ used to smile, being my initials. However, this were not the reason to keep them preserved, it was something else. Red marked signatures, comments and circles of an unforgettable teacher. Her signatures were easy to depict her nature, more polite and ease in handling notorious children. Her comments like good, stars and excellent were enough to tell my attitude on that day. Many four folded paper quoted by her were in between notebook, but no pictures of her. It was the time when my school was changed due to cardiac delicacies as referred by doctor. Unable to concentrate in classes due to health problems but failed to express. My new school, but she was more new, to get her was all destined. Her polite voice and beautiful eyes were full of expressions but neither her eyes, nor voice were successful in depicting the anger. Her chubby cheeks bring more beauty and make us to dare more noise in class. Her teaching never started from textbooks, it was approximately inside bag for fortnight but spellings, dancing, basics of science, I.Q. and current affairs turned on. Extempore were surprising for standard fourth in those days, but not for our mental standard, she used to say.

I was perfect in health and my studies too, months and days passed by, visit to doctors and regular to school were only my job. Exams were conducted, results got declared, she announced that I topped, she left the premises and told us that she will be back by next session’s have not found her there by next session. Being fit, I also changed school.

Today I am pursuing masters in mass communications, and I destined here just because of that motivation, here I see people making many mistakes, as there might be no teachers to up bring the strong roots to them. The university teachers are not going to tell you about spellings, they are just to impart knowledge. I realize that, the right knowledge at right time is in need by a right person; otherwise, it resembles quotation of one of my teacher “vidhyarthi, vidya ki arthi nikalte hai”.

Problem is not our value-based education, but problem is in our education system, in way of teaching...…resulting brain drain.

I still feel downs, there was no one to teach me Hindi and now there is no one to mark red circles in my Hindi articles now. Throwing a challenge when people ask me to proofread the Hindi write-ups. many becomes alumni of renowned colleges by mugging up the logics of science being ignorant to logics, few of my friends still don’t know the word PhD is abbreviated for ? However, toiling and appearing for NET. Nevertheless, that person made me jack of all and elements in me are the inspirations of her. I am searching her in crowded profiles of face books and orkut and no record is available in school now.

Come for Dinner, mom summoned.

I have not wiped the dust and kept it back, leaving keys hanging.

On this Teachers day, my tribute to all my respected teachers, who acted as my parents and to my parents who acted as my teachers, my almighty and instincts of nature who guided me every time.

My inspiration Reena madam, Nivedita madam and Sonalee madam


Swati Shobha Sevlani