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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1844876-Alka-Madam
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by Adi Author IconMail Icon
Rated: · Non-fiction · Biographical · #1844876
To Childhood

She was my first school teacher. Anyone who has shared schooling with me at St. Mary's convent School, VikasNagar/ Dakpathar, would vouch for Alka Madam being a life long inspiration.

As far as I knew of her, she was always the most favourite and most indispensible kinder garden teacher we St. Marians had known. Gentle her face was, curly hair tied neatly in a pony tail, twinkling eyes, most loving smile and that gentle voice..ah! she was so angelic.

Alka Madam, had taught us and our seniors, our siblings were her students, she taught kids of many of our senior students and our own batchmates and may be some of the juniors too...she was just so historic in our life. Modestly dressed, her smiling face was always telling stories, drawing cartoons, teaching us first lessons of life..from A to Apple to A to Alka Madam.. I know my words well and maths right all because of you.

People had great respect for Alka Madam, everyone knew her in that small place. We would block seats with our bags/ bottles and any thing possible in the school bus to offer her a seat and take pride in sitting next to her.

She could make such beautiful stories and sing such lovely songs. I don't know how fathom deep was her patience as hard as I try to remember I can't recollect any event when she would have raised hand or voice on us. We were always well-behaved in her class, the tiny tots, some crying, some smiling, some talking, some wetting their uniforms - all grew up to be fine humans and am sure we have a bit in us that longs to know of where is our Alka madam.

Even as we outgrew our shoe sizes and book contents - the regard and love for Alka Madam never got less. I remember one particular incident when I was a Kinder garden student - I had a very dear friend Parul Sharma ( sir name is important because we had 3 Parul's in our class ;) . So one day Parul and Himanshu ( yes that was my name) picked a fight over a small toy and ended up pulling each other by hair, my bob cut was hardly in a mess than her long plait ruffled and loose - and Parul started crying.. whimpering...hysteric!!

Alka Madam had just entered the class, the drama was unfolding - I started to cry my lungs out too.. menace I was.

She walked towards us and hugged both of us and asked - " Kya hua bacche?"

Parul was a sight of real pity and mess as she narrated my wildness to Alka madam, she gained sympathy too. I was okay after shedding a few tears, but she was not to stop. Alka Madam took Parul to her desk and pulled a chocolate out of her goodies drawer and gave it to her, she then neatly plaited her hair back and lo! Parul was sorted all smiles. She was then asked to go share the chocolate with me and shake hands with me.

Now, that was a challenge - I had already stopped crying and definitely efforts had been made to pacify the situation by rewarding Parul - what would little Himanshu do?

I stopped talking to Parul, ignored her, even as she showed me her prized possession of a 5 star chocolate bar and I would not look towards her.

Alka madam, began her chores of reading poems to us and making us recite them with her. I would not buzz. I kept quiet and kept ignorance handy.

Alka madam, sure noticed my emotions but continued with her recitals. Just before the recess bell - she informed us that it was story time.

On the black board, she drew a big face, of a small girl with a bob cut, whose face was swollen - she then asked everyone- look around and tell me who doesshe look like - Thank God we were not as smart as today's kid - no one could say my name ;) but I knew it was me..

.. it was getting interesting....

So, she began her story - Once there were two friends - who shared everything and everyone loved them, one day the picked a fight and became bad, no one loved them, then they pulled each other's hair and made each other cry... so children were they good or bad?

The class went chorus " BAD"...

So, when their teacher saw them crying she made them become friends - but one friend would not talk to her other friend and make a face that was as round as balloon..

The class burst out laughing - imagination of a girl whose face was as round as a balloon tickled our imagination - everyone went crackling and so did I.. it was really funny and unusual for us to imagine a balloon face :D

Alka madam, saw us giggling and immediately she undid the sad balloon face and put a smiling happy face on the board..

I don't remember much of what happened in the story next.. I don't remember if I made friends with Parul...

I still remember that round face that changed into smiles with a rub of a wooden duster and colourful chalks..

I remember my first and most favourite Teacher.

Where ever you may be we remain attached to your love Alka Madam!
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