You were the one who taught us the difference between “dear” and “deer”, in the first place. You taught us A, An, The, and how the twinkling star resembled a diamond in the sky. Why did Humpty fall? How did Jack and Jill tumble down the hill? Why was Cinderella poor and how did she fall in love with a prince? You made us dream. You introduced us to fairy tales, and I listened in rapt attention as your hands moved to demonstrate the actions, and your voice changed to resemble the characters. You transported me to a magical world of elves and dwarves. You made us believe that anything is possible, anything. That I could be an astronaut, or fight twelve goons with my bare hands, or I could tumble down a rabbit hole and change the size of my body. Never once did you laugh when I mused over the interiors of the twelve dwarves’ house, or how could the witch have a house full of sweet eatables and not eat it herself?
You are the reason I have beautiful handwriting, and although I do not write so much as type now, I miss having to join the dots and write the alphabets, as you worked for weeks to improve my unruly handwriting. Today, whenever a stranger compliments me on my beautiful handwriting, a smile escapes me as I thank you.
You may not be as educated as the professors I have today, who use flowery language and are reserved in their compliments. No, they do not give me stars or praise me on my wonderful progress, they are just interested in whether I fulfilled the requirements or not. Gone are the days of dreaming and being whoever you want to be, as you struggle to be who the society wants you to be, and forget dreams, you struggle have a normal sleep schedule now.
As I “advance” through my academic education, I miss my primary school teachers more and more. I never thanked you enough for your lovely smiles, your allowing us to nap in the class if we wish to, you singing to us as you narrated a poem. I never made you “Thank you” cards during Teacher’s Day, posed with you for selfies, or kept in touch with you via e-mail after we parted. No, you did not feature in my recommendations, although you knew more about my personal growth than these analyzing professors. I’m not criticizing them, I’m merely saying that you should’ve gotten all the love too, as I matured and realised just how valuable you were.
Dear teacher, can I please take you out someday for lunch, not just Teacher’s day, but any day, so that you could see what we’ve turned out to be? I’m excited to know all about the new-age children that are privileged to be your students now, and am curious to ask you how exactly did you manage to find infinite patience to deal with us! Let us pamper you, return the favor.
Dear teacher, thank you for being in my life. Thank you for making my life.
Love and respect,