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Showing posts from December, 2016

Trials and Tribulations of a Teacher: Episode 3: Did you Find out Why?

So, I decided to post this third instalment one day early, on account of tomorrow being the first day of 2017 and I would like to start it on a less morbid and hopefully more positive note. So far, I have covered two of the blows that I received on that bleak school day morning. As for the bombshell that dropped before me as I was heading to class, it was a bit of news. Another colleague was recounting a story in woeful tones surrounded by sympathetic clucks and exclamations of “Aaaahs!” and “Goodness Gracious!” and the like. Instead of being a smart cookie who has learnt her lesson and would steer clear from such a scene threatening of bad news, being the idiot that I am, I throw myself in the line of fire. I discover that the cause of the hubbub was the death of a thirteen year old girl who died of food poisoning. She ate take out that was bespeckled with rat poison. I don’t know the girl personally. However, she is a representative of all the youth I work so hard to raise

Trials and Tribulations of a Teacher: Episode 2: One More Time ... Why?

All right, then! So, let's pick up from where we left off last week, shall we? After I realized that my job is probably utterly useless and hence my existence in this world is futile, because I imbue the young minds and souls of trusting impressionable students (the youth, the future of the community) with obsolete morals that do more harm than good. I need to pull myself together before I enter class and burst into tears, for an urge, to hold every single student in my arms and personally apologizing for the bleak future that lies ahead of him/her, was quickly creeping up on me. Being the nerd that I am, I decide to calm my poor nerves by playing the one game I got installed on my phone: Scrabble! Before I start the game, I am intrigued by a Whatsapp message from a dear student of mine. I rarely receive texts that early in the morning. To cut a long story short, he was drawing my attention to a viral post that displays a photo taken from an Arabic Handwriting school textbook

The Sons of Adam

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Once upon a time there was nothing but a man and his wife. Separated they were thrown at different parts of the ancient world not knowing where to go or how. After years of separation they have united again, and once they had their moment of rejoicing, they were reminded of why they got apart, to begin with. The man loved the woman very much. He had no one else but her and so did the woman. Unlike most of the things around them they were not made out of them, but instead, they were crafted by the hands of God almighty himself. He has created them for one purpose which is to inhabit God's earth and populate civilizations after civilizations . The man and his wife remembered the reason why they have been expelled from heavens. Simply because they have acted against the wish of God, and to add to that they have lost their sense of existence. They must return home, but how? Death has been and always will be the answer .  Centuries went by, witnessing entire nations getting w

Trials and Tribulations of a Teacher: Episode 1: Remind me again … WHY?

(Disclaimer: Although all the anecdotes I recount are true stories that I have personally witnessed, or been part of, they revolve around people I have met in different places where I have worked. I have not experienced them all at my current working place. They are rather a compilation of stories I have been accumulating through the years.) Many a time I wake up from a reverie only to discover that I have been daydreaming about being at one of those support group meetings I see in Hollywood movies, but this one is not for cancer or suicide victims or alcoholism or any other such addictions, for my addiction is singular in nature. I imagine the moderator asking if anyone would like to share; and amidst awkward silence, nervous smiles, fidgeting in chairs and shuffling feet, yours truly would rise to the challenge. Without hesitation, I would raise my hand; and after the moderator nods in my direction, granting me permission to go ahead, I would stand up with my shoulders hunched (