We 'military kids' are raised differently. Being a daughter of a fauji, I have experienced and concluded that our upbringing is wierd. I am not saying it's inappropriate but it's ...it's just WIERD. And I am writing about this today because something funny happened. ******* It was almost six in the evening when my mom returned from Sunday Market which is actually a weekly vegetable and fruit market in a nearby field. As soon as we heard her footsteps on our porch, we all jolted and ran to the door to welcome her. We all are in mid 20s but we still run to mom or dad when they return from market, like toddlers do. Now before we could have the bags from her hands, she said "Aren't you guys alive! Kids have plucked all the flowers! Were you all sleeping!? Go and look what they have done...." Baffled, I went outside and found that someone had plucked a flower or two from our mini garden, and had spread the petals on the front road like you sprinkle choppe...
One day, I talked to you about how I wanted to be a fashion designer and turned to be a teacher later. Though this profession was chosen by destiny for me, but now this has become an important part of my life. Recently I got the chance to teach at a central government school of Tripura. I must say, that was the happiest and most enlightening experience of my life. It actually taught me what it means to be a teacher. So on this auspicious occasion of Teacher's Day, I want to share this beautiful poem by James J. Metcalf. I want to teach my children how to live this life on earth, To face its struggles and its strife and to improve their worth. Not just the lesson in a book or how the rivers flow, But how to choose the proper path wherever they may go. To understand eternal truth and know right from wrong, And gather all the beauty of a flower and a song. For if I help the world to grow in wisdom and in grace, Then I shall feel that I have won and I have filled my place....