It means a lot to me

Article by: Nabila


It's all about an inspiring , dedicated teacher who helped her student.


Submitted: May 08, 2013

A A A | A A A


Submitted: May 08, 2013




All good things come in small packets and so to me came the admission in St. Joseph’s Convent…….St.Joseph’s Convent , one of the best schools of Bhopal, a school which is the first preference of every parent for their daughter……

I was admitted there in 3rd std. My blood boils when people ask me , ” How much donation you gave ? “, ” What was your medium of source to get there ? ” I passed 3 written exams and an interview to get there….75 % my mother’s hard work and 25 % my destiny….Trust me nothing more than that…..
When the news of my admission reached the ears of my relatives , they all came like swarm of bees to felicitate my family and me…..

My father being an orthodox was not in the favour of getting his daughter educated in a missionary school.This narrow mindedness of him bewildered me as he himself was highly educated.Peoples praises changed his mind . I still remember when I went to school for some formalities , he met his colleague and said to him my daughter is intelligent.Oh! I was so elated. 

Now coming to interview.My mother made me ratify general knowledge questions like a nincompoop..Sister asked me a couple of questions of which I remember one the most because of my hilarious reply . She asked me about the colors of national flag . I replied and then added in hindi , ” Aur haan wo beech mein blue color ka chakra hota hai , uski 24 dandiyaan hoti hain ” ..Sister grinned…

My first day in Convent turned disastrous and people appeared zombie to me. Discipline , strict rules and regulations choked me.I wanted to run away. My major problem was the language problem. High level English crossed above my horizon.

In the initial days I befriended a girl named Tanya. Kudos to her , she would explain me each and every announcement in Hindi.

Once Tanya was in a mischievious mood . She was constantly pricking my hand with her well sharpened pencil. I would tell her not to do that but she turned a deaf ear.My teacher warned me ample of times not to talk and ultimately punished me. I wanted to elucidate her the entire matter but the so called language problem. I framed several sentences in mind but nothing came more than that – ” Mam she is chubaing pencil on me ” . So I let it go off and preferred standing.

All new comers went for dress measurements except me as I was punished. Later when everyone came back my teacher send me for measurements with a girl.

Sister asked me , ” Why are you late my dear child ? “
” I was punished ” , I replied …
“Whats the reason dear ? “, she asked…
I replied , ” I was talking ” because thats the only thing which I could say in English at that time…In 6 months my language problem solved …Aur haan ab mein theek theek English bol leti hoon….
A year passed . I tried to adjust in that environment as beggars cannot be choosers…

I disliked my 4th class teaher. She was an epitome of partiality. She said rubbish things about me on parents meet.All her allegations were baseless..Study wise I was good but when it came to co curricular activities I was bad…I knew answers but I had phobia in answering…

With low self esteem and confidence I reached 5th…Miss Kiran was my teacher then. Once she asked a question…Gathering all my might I rose hand too low, (probably the first time) hid myself behind the person in front..I was 100 % sure she wouldn’t ask me. But I was wrong..I stammered in between but her humility instilled confidence in me. She was impressed.

It wouldn’t be wrong to say a teacher is a second mother.Her caring and loving nature transformed me..I threw my shy , ill behaviour and started behaving as a true Josephite. She made me a partner of not a so good student . I helped that girl and she passed in finals..My class mates started loving and respecting me, started considering me for class monitoring…

As I reached 6th , Miss Kiran left the school…

So from there started my journey.. I wouldn’t say I m a very talented person or a celebrity…But I a complete individual in myself…

Every year I met wonderful teachers and learnt enriching things from them…

Stupid I am….I don’t know how to express feelings… i wish I could have told Miss Kiran about all that..I was too small to understand and express feelings….

It was my 12th board exam…I was rushing to my centre as I was late…
Suddenly there was a voice calling my name….I turned around and tried to recollect the face…
Again the voice questioned , ” Forgotten me ? “
I said , ” No, Miss Kiran”
“You all have grown up a lot “, said Miss Kiran…
There was lack of time as exam was just about to start…so we went away…

My teacher saw me after 7 years and still recognised me….It means a lot to me….Unknowingly she has helped me to grow….Next time when I meet her I would tell her everything because whatever she has done for me means a lot to me……


© Copyright 2017 Nabila. All rights reserved.

It means a lot to me It means a lot to me

Status: Finished

Genre: Non-Fiction



Status: Finished

Genre: Non-Fiction



It's all about an inspiring , dedicated teacher who helped her student.
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