Merry Memoirs

As the Teachers’ Day passes by, my mind travels down memory lane winding back to four decades ago when I was in school. It was an august institution run by well meaning and serious nuns belonging to the Good Shepherd order. Each year, there would be various events and celebrations befitting the guidelines for all schools. Teachers’ Day celebration was one that uniquely stood out, simply because students of class X got to don the mantle of the revered teachers and conduct classes for the younger brood. The school authorities generally arranged for a day’s picnic at a nearby scenic spot where the teachers got to enjoy themselves. During another year, it would be a celebration at school with the students performing cultural events for their dear teachers, followed by lunch. It was pure fun for the students and teachers alike. I am sure on that day every student aspired to become a teacher, as I did.

But fate willed otherwise and it so happened that I landed a job at a mighty public sector organisation, with heavy ledgers and customers to attend to, and not students. My dream of turning a teacher lay buried and my teaching was restricted to my two cute toddlers. Time flew and I never realised that I spent over two decades at the same organisation, albeit at different locations, bent under thankless work, working for nearly ten hours a day. Then finally, there came a situation in my life when I took a definite stand and severed the knot with the ruthless giant on my own terms. My action certainly raised eyebrows, as such a job was hard to come by and I had many lucrative years of my career left. But a few well wishers lauded my decision as they were themselves stuck in the rut, unable to free themselves due to various reasons, and a few were envious of me too.

Once I broke free, I heaved a big sigh of relief and started to breathe in my new retired life. I woke up leisurely, had an invigorating cuppa without any hurry and also got to attend to many of the neglected domestic add-on chores. With time on hand, my interest in my hobbies surfaced and I passionately hugged reading and writing which had been buried under the everyday rigamarole of the past two decades. One day, as I scanned the daily my eyes lit up. It was an ad for teachers at a nearby college. I was thrilled that I may step into my dream shoes. Soon, I took to teaching like a cat to milk, and it turned out that I became a teacher not only to the students but a mentor to many teachers who were almost one generation younger than me, turning it into a twin pleasure for me. On Teacher’s Day, it was with immense happiness that I accepted the roses offered by a bunch of excited students. I saw my childhood reflected in them.