Sunday, October 2, 2011


As a kid I found it hard to grow a love for school and thus there wasn’t a teacher whom I loved then. I remember my uncle forcefully taking a quetching, crying me to school having me seated on his shoulder as if I were a sacrificial goat. I dreaded school. There was some little bit of this bitterness left in me even as I went inside the classroom on the last day of my schooling. I never knew then that I would have to spend most of my life inside classrooms. Now I do not complain about my destiny which made me a teacher but oftentimes, I remember to tell myself that ‘never make your classroom a dreaded arena for even a single student.’

Now, as I try to remember my teachers whom I like, there come many a names but as I wish to list out the ones whom I dislike surely there isn’t any. For any student there could hardly be a bad teacher. There are brilliant, skillful, affectionate, doting, funny teachers but never a bad teacher. Sometimes their teaching might have been under par and their attitude less inspiring but there would be nothing in them to hate or entirely detest them.

In these days of denigrating values the status of a teacher, which is unquestionable nobility, also has come under the scanner. Ceasing to be a noble cause, education too has become a vacuous enterprise. However, even as all our hopes wane, the classroom is the only place from whereon we can hope to grow something that can bring about a change in this world, which is full of malice.


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