<p>My sojourn as a lecturer at the pre-university level has left many sublime reminiscences of batch after batch of students striding out with flying colours and fresh minds logging into the portals of St Claret College every year. <br /><br />Some memories have faded; some are frangible and some etched in my mind as a milestone. Veritably, one such ‘aha’ moment in my life was bringing a diligent pupil, Seiyekho, back to academia after she discontinued II PUC precipitously and flew to her native, Nagaland, when she was on the verge of completion.<br /><br />It all eventuated in December 2016 when, one fine morning, I got to know that Siya’s (as fondly called by friends) uncle, with whom she was residing, had met Father Principal and forewarned that his niece would not pursue her studies anymore and would return to Kohima. Despite being her class teacher, this was not brought to my immediate notice because of certain contingency. I was a bit perplexed about her interminable absence and started querying her close friends, who skirted around the question by telling that she wasn’t in good health. <br /><br />A fortnight of absence forced me to enquire her whereabouts in the college office. The staff then divulged the awful truth that she had left the institution for good and her uncle wanted her TC to be issued, to which the staff had not obliged. This was a sigh of relief to me, as Siya only had two more months left before her final examination.<br /><br />Without further ado, I collected her guardian’s contact. When her aunt picked up the phone, I requested for Siya’s mother’s number, who was a single parent. I then spoke to her mother and tried to convince her that her daughter’s return was an ill-advised move. When Siya finally come over the phone, I learnt that she was unhappy in her uncle’s home. Determined not to let her abandon her education, I suggested, “Are you okay with returning if Father arranges an alternative accommodation?” “Yes,” she said right away but expressed her doubts over attendance and the missed classes. <br /><br />Boosting her confidence, I asked her to simply return to Bengaluru at the earliest and leave the rest to my care. Lo! Within five days of my call, she was back in campus. The principal and I took the responsibility of admitting her to a girl’s hostel nearby, and from then, I continued to be her guardian, monitoring her academic and personal life.<br /><br />Siya completed her annual exams with single-minded focus and returned to her hometown on the assurance that she would pursue her degree in the same institution. Before leaving, she said, “Ma’am, you are like god to me. Because of your call, I returned or else I would have wasted one crucial year.” Patting her back, I responded “I am no god, Siya, but only executing a small duty as a good teacher.” I realised that a small yet timely act could change a person’s future for the better. Going that extra mile is worth the joy and sense of fulfilment it brings.</p>
<p>My sojourn as a lecturer at the pre-university level has left many sublime reminiscences of batch after batch of students striding out with flying colours and fresh minds logging into the portals of St Claret College every year. <br /><br />Some memories have faded; some are frangible and some etched in my mind as a milestone. Veritably, one such ‘aha’ moment in my life was bringing a diligent pupil, Seiyekho, back to academia after she discontinued II PUC precipitously and flew to her native, Nagaland, when she was on the verge of completion.<br /><br />It all eventuated in December 2016 when, one fine morning, I got to know that Siya’s (as fondly called by friends) uncle, with whom she was residing, had met Father Principal and forewarned that his niece would not pursue her studies anymore and would return to Kohima. Despite being her class teacher, this was not brought to my immediate notice because of certain contingency. I was a bit perplexed about her interminable absence and started querying her close friends, who skirted around the question by telling that she wasn’t in good health. <br /><br />A fortnight of absence forced me to enquire her whereabouts in the college office. The staff then divulged the awful truth that she had left the institution for good and her uncle wanted her TC to be issued, to which the staff had not obliged. This was a sigh of relief to me, as Siya only had two more months left before her final examination.<br /><br />Without further ado, I collected her guardian’s contact. When her aunt picked up the phone, I requested for Siya’s mother’s number, who was a single parent. I then spoke to her mother and tried to convince her that her daughter’s return was an ill-advised move. When Siya finally come over the phone, I learnt that she was unhappy in her uncle’s home. Determined not to let her abandon her education, I suggested, “Are you okay with returning if Father arranges an alternative accommodation?” “Yes,” she said right away but expressed her doubts over attendance and the missed classes. <br /><br />Boosting her confidence, I asked her to simply return to Bengaluru at the earliest and leave the rest to my care. Lo! Within five days of my call, she was back in campus. The principal and I took the responsibility of admitting her to a girl’s hostel nearby, and from then, I continued to be her guardian, monitoring her academic and personal life.<br /><br />Siya completed her annual exams with single-minded focus and returned to her hometown on the assurance that she would pursue her degree in the same institution. Before leaving, she said, “Ma’am, you are like god to me. Because of your call, I returned or else I would have wasted one crucial year.” Patting her back, I responded “I am no god, Siya, but only executing a small duty as a good teacher.” I realised that a small yet timely act could change a person’s future for the better. Going that extra mile is worth the joy and sense of fulfilment it brings.</p>
