A Teacher’s Day

          I packed my bag and water-bottle to leave school for the day, after Jana Gana Mana. As I alighted the steps of my first floor class room, I noticed him standing at the rear gate, waiting for me to come out. I knew that he was there for me because the maid, who was to carry the school bag, was away. How unfair this was! True, I cannot carry my heavy schoolbag. But that shouldn’t mean that he carry it. How did Amma agree to this arrangement, in first place? Now that he’s shown up here, should I make him carry my bag? No way! The moment I reached the rear gate, I found his outstretched arm eager to take hold of my heavy bag. It was so endearing that anyone but I would have happily handed over the bag to him gleefully and made the way back home. But I wasn’t going to give up, not as yet. ‘I cannot’, I said, still wondering how Amma had agreed to put him to this much of strain. ‘No, dear, give it to me’, he said, as he gently took away my bag from my shoulder.  I looked at his face, which showed the signs of ageing, but then his lean frame betrayed the strong arms which were a part of it