I was cleaning up my cupboard, of course after ages, and stumbled upon a file that I made in 6th standard for my Hindi assignment. Struck by nostalgia, I started turning its pages and realised that a few things just never change. One of them being my awful handwriting. Anyways, we were supposed to write five Hindi poems; apart from the ones that we had in our syllabus.

First three poems were common poems for children including my all time favourite, Phoolon se tum hasna seekho, bhawaron se tum gaana. I still remember this poem whole heartedly. The fourth poem had a rather mature writing style, with a sophisticated vocabulary. Beneath the poem was written the name of the poet; Vardaan by Rabindranath Tagore. Although, all these poems were very different from each other, one thing was common throughout the pages of the file so far; the remarks. My teacher had given a “good” for every poem. For the last poem though, was a “very good”. Whose poem was this?

I started reading it. It was a poem on water. But, I couldn’t finish it. I stopped reading it midway. It was bad, very childish and cringeworthy. There was no need to look for the poet because I knew, I had written it. Just what was I thinking? It was my first ever poem, and just terrible. The struggle to rhyme the last word of each sentence was almost peeping out of the page, looking me into the eyes and laughing hysterically. But still, my teacher had thought this poem deserved a “very good”.

Now that I think about it, what would have happened, forget a bad remark, if there was no remark at all. My first poem would certainly have been my last poem as well. For a 12 year old child that bland poem was her best effort, and she must have been looking forward to some sort of appreciation. That “very good” was the much needed appreciation for me back then. It’s not like I am a renowned poet now or something. I rarely write poems, and yes, I still struggle to rhyme words. But, what could have been the end became the beginning just because of a simple remark. And it is also true that two of the most liked posts on this site are my poems.

All of us have that one teacher in our lives who teaches us something so valuable that it takes us years to fathom its worth. Whether it is a classroom lecture, a remark on an assignment file or even a scolding, there is a teacher who teaches you lessons beyond the school curriculum. He was “that” teacher to me. He used to teach us Hindi, Sanskrit and everything out of syllabus. When we read the classic Andher Nagari play, he actually made us act it out in the class, saying that, “who knows, one of you might become an actor”. As peculiar were his ways of teaching, as abrupt was his departure from school. He just left the school one day and since then I haven’t had any contact with him.

His single remark encouraged me for writing at a time when even I didn’t knew I could do it. I wish I could meet him at least one more time. He might not recognize me, for he had many students. But I remember him, because he was that one teacher to me, whom I genuinely want to say to, “Thank you, Sir”.