Saleel Pulekar

Yesterday, I had been for a walk in my locality, Garodia Nagar, in Ghatkopar, Mumbai. I went to the Lion's Club Joggers park. It was very pleasant in the park. Young Gujju ladies, looking like middle aged aunties, courtesy their behinds, gossiping away while making lazy rounds of the park, spoiling the silence of the atmosphere. On the bench, old uncles, discussing the plight of the world and the dangers to come, the sheer disappointment in their tone clearly evident, with traces of a superiority complex as they compared today's times to their days. Some health freaks, making a leisurely garden walk a serious affair, more than the sweat, their twisted brows were distorting their face, as though they were there to vent out their anger, after a recent fight with their boss/wife. Young couples on the benches in some shady corner, where somehow the light rays from the nearby lamp post don't reach, because some leaf or flower of a long branch manages to do its job. Some couples ...

Since as early morning as 00:03, I have been getting SMS and FB messages and emails wishing me a Happy Teachers Day. Some praises about how well I have taught and how my teachings have made a difference in peoples' lives. These messages set me thinking and I began wondering, "What and who did I teach?" A chain of thoughts, like one wave after the other, like the gushing flow of a boisterous river, swept my mind. Images of my various teachers starting from my mother, my Std 3 school teacher, sports teachers, dad, my cousins, my uncles and aunts, neighbors, friends with whom I used to play...etc etc. Very soon my mind was congested with images in a fraction of second, similar to how the silver lined clouds of various shapes make the sky look like a multiple exposed screen when lightning strikes supplemented with sound effects of thunder. Art of Living teachers, my mentors, college guides ..they all came. A sudden realization came the next moment. My so called 'students...