An ode to my teachers

Through out my school I do not remember any single day where I demanded not to go to school. Preparations started as soon as the night before itself, I found immense satisfaction in polishing my as well as my father's shoes to mirror.I even bunked my school bus back to home when I was in UKG once, just to get more ride of my favourite toy horse. And I was in big trouble because my school was in between Raebareli and Lucknow. In my childhood I was troubled by bullies and as they say, evolution, I grew faster than peers so all things were stable soon.because other were not sure what this tall chap can do as I did nothing to hurt.

If someone asks me what were your building blocks I will say 3 teachers, several books and my own ability to question things as well as to take things at face value itself, in decreasing order of priority.

The first teacher was an old white woman, mother of our principal, Mrs. Rodrigues. She wore single piece with flowers all over and always threatened to break the knuckles with stick. And such was her influence that we were writing essays by the time we were in class 2!.But after class 3, some other teacher started coming, she was young, beautiful and charming but she was not Mrs. Rodrigues.
We got a chance, we were told that today ma'am will not teach, and we were so happy that we did not listen to what the old lady was saying sweetly and calmly. Next thing I remember is visiting graveyard.

The second teacher is Mrs.Sinha, I call her Manorama ma'am.
Hindi teacher, so nothing relates to academics.But I still do not know what made her believe that I as a silent backbencher was fake.She made me into full fledged artist, sportsman, monitor of class and finally house captain.Though introducing to dramatics is credited to the 3rd teacher.and they fought for me because I was as good as english general fighting jhasi ki rani as shouting blood as in tatya tope.The last time I remember Manaroma ma'am, she was shouting at me, for being a bad finisher. I miss her a lot, she is in no contact after that and I just wish that someday she comes to know that I still remember her, her words and my strive against my natural self.

The Third teacher is Mrs. Namita Aiyer.
She came into my life when I was in class 8.
And this time I found a person who has done homework.She started spilling beans, calling me "split personality".
At that time I could not Imagine more beautiful living being. And when imparting knowledge, she always gave extra which will continue to help and guide.

Lessons learnt in hard way, I still talk to her, she is in Ahmedabad, though stopped teaching.She is my oldest friend, others are there, but we never appreciate hibernation mode.