“Ramsha, are you done? We are leaving,” called my colleagues from the hallway.

I looked at the amount of unfinished work and heaved a sigh. Before I could reply, one of my co-teachers, Sana, craned her neck inside the door and peeked in.

“Whoa! That looks like a tremendous amount of toil and labour,” she commented. Using the end of my dupatta, I wiped away the beads of sweat that were about to trickle down my forehead and looked up at her with a reluctant smile.

“I guess I’ll need another hour to wrap up my work, so you guys shouldn’t wait for me. I’ll manage my way home,” I assured her.

Seeing my preoccupation with work, Sana didn’t push further and left quietly while I returned to my tasks.

Tomorrow was the first day of school after vacation, and I wanted to finish decorating the classroom for my students. I had been on my toes since morning, giving my classroom a new theme and ensuring everything looked just as I had planned. I scanned the to-do list.

“So now, it’s just the soft board trims and the welcome note on the door left to be put up,” I murmured under my breath.

I had begun organising my classroom early in the morning and had been so occupied that I didn’t realise it was nearly 3 p.m. I scurried across the room, my heels clacking on the floor tiles. As I peeled last year’s posters and notes off the bulletin boards, nostalgia washed over me.

There were dozens of cute handwritten ‘thank you’, ‘get well soon’ and ‘will miss you’ notes… and yes, the graffiti, the artwork, the little pieces of literature and science projects, the post-it notes of the bake sale drive — almost everything we did together as a team.

All the memories we had shared as a class played before my eyes like a reel. One by one, I reminisced about each event and was startled to find myself remembering even the tiniest details with such clarity. I dragged a chair, rested my elbows on the desk, cupped my cheeks in my hands, and stared at the whiteboard with blank eyes.

Nodding slowly, I admitted in the silence of the room, “What a splendid year I spent with my learners!”

It’s so strange that in such a short time, you develop a bond with your students so strong that each one of them holds a special place in your heart. Irrespective of their shortcomings, you admire and cherish them for bringing their uniqueness and personality to your classroom, and you acknowledge them for giving you the opportunity to be their teacher. The amazing part is that over time, as they move ahead in their professional lives, they may forget you — but you won’t forget them. A teacher remembers their students for who they were, not for what they were expected to be.

If a teacher reflects on her career, she would agree she has taught students who, because of their curiosity and intelligence, gave purpose to her teaching. Some put a smile on her face with their humour each day, others gave her a reason to continue her passion despite the detours. Together, they packed her teaching journey with immense learning and growth.

As I pondered how my last academic year went, I realised that not everything had turned out the way I had envisioned. Perhaps this is what being a teacher means — to be adaptable and ready to embrace every situation with grace. When your students look up to you with respect, you respond by being there for them, even on days when you yourself are struggling, because you don’t want to let them down.

The most wonderful gift my students have given me throughout my teaching journey is a purpose in life. On days when I may be struggling or finding it hard to cope, their sweet smiles, positive comments, or a “miss you, teacher” message raise my spirits instantly, making my day.

I believe that, over time, the bond you develop with your learners enables you to go beyond the role of just a teacher. For your learners, you are more than that — you become a guide, a mentor, a role model. They know there is at least one person they can speak to openly, because that person will listen without stereotypes or judgement. And not only in academics, but in matters related to their personal lives too. This, I believe, perfectly encapsulates my teaching objective.

While sharing my reflections, I was brought back to the present by the sudden blink of a message flashing on my screen. Guess what — it was from one of my students.

It said: “Teacher, can’t wait to begin classes from tomorrow!”

Published in Dawn, Young World, October 4th, 2025