These lessons of life were imparted to me by the lady whom I always refer to as my Godmother. She is none other than my high school English teacher. Throughout my school life she was the one who always provided the much required pat on my back whenever I was bogged down and dejected with matters that now seem outright silly (and even hilarious sometimes! ). In fact, it would be fairer to say that she made them appear pithy. From an emotional wreck she motivated me into becoming a practical adult. Every strong house needs a solid foundation. She laid mine.
It is hard to imagine how she did that, especially now that I know about all the problems that she had undergone in her life. How I came to know about them is quite an episode in itself. It was a day when we were together. Only the two of us.
It was the month of monsoon. School was over earlier than usual as it had been raining incessantly since morning and most of the streets were already waterlogged. Very few students had turned up for the class anyway and those who did, gladly left early when came to know that they were allowed to do so. Nonetheless, I was in no hurry. Much to the dismay of my parents, I always liked wading through waterlogged streets. So I indulged in my favorite pastime- whining in front of Ma’am how my parents neither cared for nor understood me. I was especially sad about how my father was not like other fathers who would pick up and kiss their daughters and tell them that they loved their little darlings. Although I lived in the same house as my parents, I never felt that we lived together. Each of us would be busy with our own lives. It was a good house. But it was not a home.
Ma’am seemed a bit different that afternoon. It seemed as if we were not together in that room. It felt as if she was somewhere far away. The dark clouds outside made it seem as if it was a never-ending night. It was then that she started speaking. And what was spoken in that classroom with two souls together, changed my outlook towards life forever. It was more heart wrenching than all of Khaled Hosseini’s books put together. Unfortunately, I am unable to share it here as I am sworn to secrecy. But let me tell you this. Those two hours made me realize the value of being together. And thanks to my Godmother I not only value my house but love my home as well.
Reminiscence courtesy goes to this wonderful photo of Housing.com :