Short Story: The Teacher

"THE TEACHER"

It was Sunday morning. Sitting on a bench by joggers park, I was relishing the view of people busy with their early morning exercises, some resting after a hard workout, some gossiping and many children of different age groups, playing around.

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One of them was now approaching me. I could make out that he is surely coming to me. Yes, I was right. He came near me and sat just by my side, he smiled. It was fresh, lovable and a smile with all innocence. I can't resist smiling back.

The boy:Hello Aunty.

Myself: (With all my soul)Hi, my child. Do you know me?

The boy: (Nodding positively) I know you are a teacher in National Public School(NPS).

Myself:So you are a student of NPS.

The boy: No I go to municipal school in ward 4.

His reply made my willingness to know about him still stronger.

Myself: which standard?

The boy: IVth.

Myself: Good. So how do you know me?

The boy: My mother works there as a school service assistant or you can say as an "Aaya" and many times I have been there if had some work with maa(mom).

Myself: And you have seen me there.

The boy: Yes, and my mother says that you are a good teacher,

(I felt proud. He continued) but very strict and nobody dares to talk in your class or even thinks twice before talking to you.

 

Now these words of him made me feel a bit uneasy. I looked at him and asked.

Myself: Don't you feel afraid of talking to me.

The boy: Why should I. I am not your student.

Myself: So who is your best teacher?

The boy:My mother. She teaches me everything which is not taught in school.

Myself: So your mother is well educated.

The boy: No, not that much. She has studied till standard Xth and did not clear it.

After such a long discussion, I asked him the question that I was longing to ask him since he said that he went to a municipal school.

Myself: My child, if you don't mind can I ask you, from where have you learnt to deliver such a good speech. 

There was a sparkle in his eyes as he was also waiting to disclose the fact.

The boy: My mother and I both learn it from an App and practice it at home. She learns first and then teaches me.

Myself: Is she strict?

The boy: No, not at all. She has not even beaten me once.

Myself: So you are not afraid of her.

(He was fast to reply).

Credit: Max Pixel

The boy: I love her.

All these replies by him were making me uncomfortable. The reason was not clear to even me.

All of sudden I got up and said, 

Myself: Ok bye. We will meet some other day. Give my regards to your mother. Bye. Take care.

Now I was walking down the street beside the park. I tried hard to stop the continuous hovering of thoughts in my mind. But I failed to control them. They were pinching me and somewhere down there I felt that I was wrong. The park was not far from my house and soon I was there on doorsteps. I unlocked it and went inside. Everything was right there as I kept them before leaving for a walk. There was nobody to make a mess of. Everything was neat, clean and tidy, just there where it should be. My only daughter is pursuing post-graduation and lives in a hostel. She comes twice. That's the only time when I have someone other than me in my house. I am not a socialising person. People rarely visit my place or I go to meet them. It happens once on a Blue Moon.

(After having a bath, did some holy rituals and went for a cup of tea and some freshly baked bread.

Every day while having tea she use to take care of her some very delicate, pampered plants in beautifully crafted pots. She use to touch them and feel them. This took around an hour. But today the thought of the boy was making her uncertain. She was not able to digest that the boy has pointed out her fault.

 All of sudden she realised that till now she has addressed that boy as "the boy". She must have conversed with him for, maybe about 40 minutes but never asked his name.)

 

( The phone rang)

She walked inside to check out. It was Sukriti Madam, the Chemistry teacher.

Myself: Hello Sukriti, What's up.

Sukriti: I am good madam. I rang you to say that can you please send me the list of students participating in the science exhibition.

Myself: Alright, I am.

Sukriti: Madam some of them. To be precise, 7 of them are here with me at my place to discuss their ideas. The students of the biology section are also here and they wanted to know whether they can make something depicting plant life instead of the animal as they think it is a very common thing to cover. But as the syllabus has not reached the topic yet so they wanted to be clear about it.

 ( after a pause)

Myself: Tell them to meet me tomorrow.

Sukriti: Okay Madam. Sorry to bother you. Meet you tomorrow. Bye, have a nice day.

Myself: Bye, Good day.

After disconnecting, I felt down there in some corner of my heart, a bit concerned and insulted. I couldn't make out what is bothering me. Why am I taking things so differently? Why am I bothered by the fact that students have approached Sukriti, instead of me, even for their Biology exhibits?

That boy said that he can ask his mother anything cause he is not afraid of her and he is sure that she is going to find a solution to every question, even if they are tough to get. Students know that I have the answer to their questions but why do they have to reach out indirectly. Why can't they come to me and ask? Why Sukriti is so popular among students? These questions never disturbed me before. Now all of a sudden what's happening to me.

About Sukriti being so friendly with the students, I recollected an incident that occurred some five days back.

I was standing in the lobby outside my class, waiting for the attendant to bring a register for me. It was Sukriti's class going on in the classroom just opposite mine. There was so much noise in the classroom. But yes, the students were having a proper dialogue with their teacher on the topic. They were clearing their doubts without any hesitation and also listening to what she countered. Sometimes she got irritated but remained calm and answered all their queries.

Now I was consciously comparing my class with hers. In my class, some of the so-called intelligent, good-scoring students sometimes have the guts to ask some questions, that too when I ask them. The rest of the students, even if they cannot get it, they never asked me.

OH MY GOD! Am I having a dought about me being a good teacher? I thought I am amongst the best of them. I thought I have so much knowledge of my subject that it satisfies the certificate of a good teacher. Also, I have acclaimed so many awards for being the "best teacher of the year".

Now here I am standing in midst of a whirl of confusion that what is the need for me to work on changing my attitude as a teacher. I was sure to make the changes and was now eagerly waiting for tomorrow morning so that I can just do the beginning. The little boy has taught me, an arrogant, presumptuous and harsh teacher a lesson of what a good and a true teacher should be like. I am in dilemma, who is actually "THE TEACHER".

I think I should just accept the truth and bring changes in me to be a still better teacher for a better future.

 

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