Other Side Of Me

It's a weekly carol,
I shall sing it everyday.
I shall withstand the transience,
of what I understand.

When my shadow chose to impersonate
you, I knew
It's pretty how words mean so much to us.
Sometimes, the sound of them speaks much more,
than they could ever mean.

I wanna stand where it rains on one,
doesn't on the other side of me.
'cause it is that other side,
that is a drowning fish.

To Sir, with love.

The meaning of the word “teacher” has evolved as much as I have in the past few years.

When I was a child in kindergarten, I perceived it to be someone who gave me guidelines relating to anything and everything from ‘how to sit’ to ‘how to stand while singing the national anthem (which was also taught by her)’, from ‘how to speak’ to ‘when not to speak’ and going even up to ‘what to speak’. The word ‘teacher’ automatically created an entoptic image of reliability. One of the few conversations that I can recall exactly from that phase is of my 1^st grade teacher declaring this in a P.T.M that she was not just a teacher. “I teach them Hindi. I teach them English. I teach them Maths and Science too. But I’m also their servant, their mother and their friend.” She said.

Things began to change as I approached high school. The bond I shared with my teachers became more formal as ‘how to walk’ was no more a subject of concern. Other more important subjects such as history, geography and chemistry came into existence leaving little room for the evaluation of that bond. But I did learn from quite a few of them the concept of a “guru”. Even though I couldn’t relate to it, but it was somewhere there at the back of my mind.

The only time when I actually understood it, was a few months ago while taking classes for English from Akhtar Sir. Yes, it’s funny. I never thought I’ll take English classes. Easiest subject right? But I did, in the hope that they will make me even better. And they did. More than I knew. I was in a dismal tune that time. But he motivated me and made me believe in me again. On one rejection in a stupid college, he said-“Don’t worry. It’s not your loss. Life surely must be designing something better for you.” And as it is said, people don’t come to know but their words have a much greater impact than they can think of.

Thank you sir.

For welcoming me to a world where butterflies carry the colours of a rainbow even into the darkness of gloom

Where stars twinkle day and night

Where one tells a million lies

To discover a fake truth.

Thanks a lot, you’ll always be my favourite teacher! :) Believe in yourself, and believe in what you do. It never goes waste.

Happy Teachers Day.