Date: sometime in late 1993
I was expecting a monster to arrive. Everyone had narrated tales of this teacher and how rude, intolerant, strict, hard taskmaster she was. Anxious as I was to see this new teacher, I was looking forward to it. Having switched from a Govt Hindi medium school to an English medium one in the middle of a semester in 5th grade, I was looking for some respite in one subject - Hindi!
N suddenly a boy came running into the class room, and shouted - She's here! And everyone got back to his/her seat and fell silent. N there she was - Small, slender, dusky, with a red large bindi on her forehead, in an orange khadi saree, hair nicely done and tied with a small stick. I didn't realize I was gazing till the boy sitting next to me pinched me and said "Pehli class mein hi pitna hai??"
Well! That was Ms. Sarita Saxena, my Hindi teacher. Little did I know while greeting her that morning that she would become my most favorite teacher till date and that more than 15 years later, I would dedicate a post to her! So what made me wake up and remember her? Well, blame must goto "Tuesdays with Morrie". It opened with a question, and to answer it I had to dust off all these years. And the faint sound of her voice, turned into an image as fresh as ever.
She was my favorite teacher, and I was proudly her favorite student. No one could ever score more than me in her subject. But the credit would goto her. I still remember how brilliant she was. The best speaker I had ever heard. The way she emphasized on words, the clarity with which she spoke mesmerized me no ends.
She was the first who became privy to my writings.* She was in fact the first teacher I learnt to respect. She was an ideal, a person who I felt could understand me in all those growing up years. And then one day when I was in 10th, she stopped coming to school. A few months later I came to know she had gotten married and left the school. And that was the end of it.
I am sure, she would have forgotten this student of hers. But for me, she would remain. And would come out of the oblivion every time someone asked me to name a person who understood me 'when I was young & searching and helped me see the world as a more profound place'.
I was expecting a monster to arrive. Everyone had narrated tales of this teacher and how rude, intolerant, strict, hard taskmaster she was. Anxious as I was to see this new teacher, I was looking forward to it. Having switched from a Govt Hindi medium school to an English medium one in the middle of a semester in 5th grade, I was looking for some respite in one subject - Hindi!
N suddenly a boy came running into the class room, and shouted - She's here! And everyone got back to his/her seat and fell silent. N there she was - Small, slender, dusky, with a red large bindi on her forehead, in an orange khadi saree, hair nicely done and tied with a small stick. I didn't realize I was gazing till the boy sitting next to me pinched me and said "Pehli class mein hi pitna hai??"
Well! That was Ms. Sarita Saxena, my Hindi teacher. Little did I know while greeting her that morning that she would become my most favorite teacher till date and that more than 15 years later, I would dedicate a post to her! So what made me wake up and remember her? Well, blame must goto "Tuesdays with Morrie". It opened with a question, and to answer it I had to dust off all these years. And the faint sound of her voice, turned into an image as fresh as ever.
She was my favorite teacher, and I was proudly her favorite student. No one could ever score more than me in her subject. But the credit would goto her. I still remember how brilliant she was. The best speaker I had ever heard. The way she emphasized on words, the clarity with which she spoke mesmerized me no ends.
She was the first who became privy to my writings.* She was in fact the first teacher I learnt to respect. She was an ideal, a person who I felt could understand me in all those growing up years. And then one day when I was in 10th, she stopped coming to school. A few months later I came to know she had gotten married and left the school. And that was the end of it.
I am sure, she would have forgotten this student of hers. But for me, she would remain. And would come out of the oblivion every time someone asked me to name a person who understood me 'when I was young & searching and helped me see the world as a more profound place'.
