Take Wings

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Memoir  |  House: Booksie Classic

Submitted: February 08, 2016

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Submitted: February 08, 2016

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Ever since my childhood days, whenever I followed my mum to her college, I always admired the group of students flocking to her, with myriad kinds of problems and looking up to her. It felt so similar to the image of scattering grains to the pigeons, and the warm ball of emotions it left in my stomach led me to dream of becoming an educator. Being a bit offbeat than the others, these stuff led me to like the stories of gurus and shishyas entertained me more than prince, princess and the winged horses. But as we know, while living in this world, we are forced to come out of our own little dream world that we create and start facing the harsh way of life in the world created by adults. This new world, the more we try to push away, the more it entangles us into the net created with rules, laws and regulations. So as if all of it was planned from the very beginning, I came unto the realisation of what an educator in today's world is. It's not the great personality that my grandfather used to talk about while basking under the sun in an armchair, no its definitely not someone who nurtures younglings and supports them in the time of both flourish and anguish; it's something more realistic, or as the adults now say more practical. At a very young age I was told that headmasters like granddad, who spent his whole life in making a future for many a student, now exist in only utopian worlds. For as long as I can remember, there were a specific set of rules and regulations, set down by the authorities for both the teachers and the students; and both the groups kept contact of one another, while precariously toeing this line. We were taught as much as it was written in books and was expected to respond in the same mechanical manner. In any joint collaboration that we did there always lurked a hidden agenda, something darker underneath the shining coat of sugar and smiles. If I ever found solace, it were the times when I went to my teachers outside the schools and got connected with them. Unhindered by the shackles of constant overseeing, we connected to each other, discussing our hearts out on various topics, be it relevant or irrelevant to the syllabi. And I can say those were the times that my character was stitched up to the piece it is now. For many a year thence, as I slowly stepped into my teens, my dreams changed with the environment. I dreamed of a lot of things, as I grew attracted towards many new aspects of life. Some years later flowing along with the river of time I enrolled into the Vellore institute of technology with the aim of being a civil engineer like my dad, and build dream structures. With lofty ambitions, I prepared myself to enter another cage of fire. Like they say through the test of fire does emerge true gold. And VIT didn't disappoint me in any kind. It was the same format of our school in a bigger kind. The infrastructure changed and so did the rules. But the two classes of people seemed segregated - there were distinctly one of the educators and the other of the students. Even more fortunately, we didn't have any fixed classmates, so our people pleasing skills were put to test while we searched for groups. But as I had already grown out of my shell, I didn't really take these matters into consideration anymore and chose to ignore it. Diligently following rules, I attended every class and any doubts I had, I discussed with my friends and solved it. Then it occurred one day. When I was about to leave the class, a girl student hurried into the classroom. I was busy packing my things, and the class was empty. She approached ma'am and started talking about her absence for the past week. As I was in the front row it was clearly audible to me. Main content of it was, she had to hurry back to her home as her elder brother had demised in an unfortunate accident, and she had no idea what to do, as she missed a lot of classes and exams were just a week away. She was evidently in a lot of panic, for she was confused between the grief of her brother and the responsibility of her own lifestyle. She even had a suitcase along with her, most probably just returning from her house. Ma'am first asked her calm down and told her to follow her to the cafeteria. Finding me the only one left in the classroom, Ma'am asked me to carry her suitcase to the canteen. I was really distraught about it for it was a morning class and I really wanted to go back to hostel and sleep again, but still carried the suitcase and quietly followed them. After reaching there I was tasked with bringing three coffees. And as I went towards the counter ma'am started talking to her about her brother. When I returned back, much to my surprise, the girl had calmed down quite a bit. As I started sipping down the free coffee greedily, Ma'am made arrangements for the girl to come to madam's cabin at Saturday and Sunday and promised t teach her the whole day. Even after all that I was asked to photocopy my notes and give it to ma'am so that she could give it to her. That subject was quite tough and none of us could study it without madam's help. But even so, I was awestruck at her gesture. It wasn't that she didn't have any prior plans or was free for the whole day, but she made that sacrifice for something which has no benefit to her own self. After sipping down the whole coffee, I looked at her meekly as I left the canteen. And as I saw her, I felt another gaze from within myself, a look at admiration; the little me was there for a brief moment, staring longingly at her with shiny eyes and puffed cheeks, the same way he used to stare at his mother. After a very long time a chuckled a little that day, as I stared at the sky outside . It felt like my granddad smiled at me too. The societies change , along with the rules as the times fly by; but perhaps some people never change, and that's why the minstrels tell stories about them. Maybe a teacher is always a teacher, however hardened the shell may look like, just maybe when we are in genuine trouble they will pick us out of the mud and help us stand straight again so that we may walk steadily toward the future. From that day onwards, I idolised ma'am, even after passing out of her class, I went to her cabin in the excuse of clearing doubts related to her subject, just to see her smiling bye every time I left and strengthening my belief that one fine day I will become like her and bring that warm ball of fluffy emotions to every student who came to me. For as my Granddad said, Great educators are those who can turn coal into a diamond, and not those who can only polish them.


© Copyright 2018 Devesh C Anand. All rights reserved.

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