“Thank you, Pavitra, for all the help. I’ll call you once more on the 28^th to hear your opinions.”

“It’s me who should thank you, Sir, for making me a good human being. BYE and please take care ....”

So did the line at the other end go off and the conversation between Pavitra, a former student of mine, now working in a clothes shop for babies in Phuentsholing, and me came to an end.

It was Sunday, the 22^nd of February and I was back to Phuentsholing, having dropped my wife at Alipurduar earlier to leave for Kolkata in connection with her father’s cataract operation. I came back by 3 in the afternoon and headed straight for Kumar Trading, a shop dealing in all kinds of things, to pick up the rice cooker, we had bought the day before. I even asked the owner if his shop would remain open on Sunday and was informed that it would. But when I reached there, I found the shutters down like the owner’d gone on a long holiday or something. As I was planning to catch the 4 o’clock bus to get back to Tsimalakha, I knew I had to do something immediately to stop myself from landing in a dire state. Finding no signs of the shop opening in the distant future, I  rushed to the adjacent shop to see if I could get any help. The owner, one Mrs. Tshomo, was kindness personified. She tried her best by calling his number, but the voice at the other end was not at all in a helpful mood. Inorder not to trouble her any further, I decided to go out and hope for a miracle. As I  hurried out to wipe away the sweats on my forehead ,sitting behind the goenpa,  facing Kumar Trading, I could see a familiar face approaching.

Now I am not getting any younger by the day and I find it very difficult to remember the names of my former students these days. Surprisingly, I recollected her name at that very moment. “ Pavitra, what are you doing here?” 

“ I’m working in a shop here, Sir. I saw you from up there and came running down. How’re you, Sir? Did you have lunch?”

And we spent the next 20 minutes or so in catching up with the time since she graduated and left school. “I’m so glad  to see you. Can I ask for a favour?”

I’s very relieved to hand her the PIT form the next moment. She then led me up to her shop and introduced me to the lady behind the counter and ordered two cups of tea. She did not touch her cup despite my request, when tea was brought from somewhere. As our conversation got going, I shared about my present students and what has been hurting me a lot of late …….

It was the first day of school after the students’ return. As I entered, I was greeted heartily by my students except one or two.

“ You don’t seem very happy to see me, D.....” I told a student in particular. Little did I know at that time that my question was going to land me in a thick soup. The rest of the day was spent on issuing books to the class and some other formalities. So was the next day as well. It was on the third morning, at the start of the first period that the same boy, sitting on the front bench cut in, during the roll-call, by stating:

“Sir, we've something serious to discuss.” Later on I was told that my class does not want me to be their English Teacher.

I was in some kind of shock or something. Despite my poor academic qualifications, which I have never tried to hide from anyone ever; never, in a teaching career of over 25 years, have I been faced with anything like this. But inspite of the hurt, the remorseful feeling of not being wanted, the human in me took over and I was back to sense within no time.

“OK. Who would you like as your English teacher then?’

“ Madam Anju, Sir,” someone from the front seat responded.

“That is not possible. Madam Anju isn’t interested in teaching class-XII this year …….”

“ What about Madam Chencho?’ Something sounded strange and ominous.

“ I don’t know if she would agree and I can’t promise you anything right now. But I’ll lalk to her. On second thought, I don’t think she can be your English Teacher either. Who will be your class teacher then?”

“ You can be our class-teacher still,” Gopal chirped in. Things were really getting complicated.

“ How’s that possible? How can I still be your class-teacher without teaching you English?” I tried to make them see reason by talking about the problem. They wondered if Lop. Pem Tenzin or Lop. Mahindra could be their class teacher in that case. Right at that moment the gong was sounded and I took leave by deciding to talk to Ms Chencho and our Academic Head, Mr. Somo Tshering.

I did so right after the class. And despite all their encouraging words, I felt threatened and truly unwanted for the first time in my life. I found myself in a dilemma and did not know if one student was voicing the sentiment of the whole class or that of just a few individuals. Deep down I seem to know myself quite well. I’ll never do anything to be in anyone’s way. Besides, the students mean a lot to me. I’ve received a lot of love, affection and respect from them because I’ve always tried to respect their feelings, ideas and opinions. And no matter what, God willing, I’ll always have their best interests at the back of my mind ……..”

“I don’ know about others, but I know it for a fact and so do my friends that if I’ve become a good human being today, then it is because of someone like you, Sir.” Pavitra burged in here in the middle of my account, to bring me back to the reality.

Later, I bared my heart to a chance acquaintance, Mr. Pema Wangchuk, an English teacher from Wangdi. If there is one thing that my experience of teaching has made me value more than anything else, it is the importance of sharing honestly with my well-wishers in the profession and working on my drawbacks with their valued and honest feedback.