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From the teacher’s desk

 





The Joy of a Teacher’s Heart



If I’ve even touched one heart as a teacher…

If I’ve ever helped a student grow in confidence, or contributed in some small way to their love for language, I feel the purpose of my being a teacher is fulfilled.


Today, the Class 10 results were announced, and my phone was flooded with calls and messages—from students who reached out just to say thank you. And honestly, I felt elated. Humbled. Overjoyed. Words, for once, seemed too small to capture what I felt.


There is a special kind of happiness that a teacher experiences—one that surpasses even personal success. When we see our students succeed, reach new heights, or simply remember us years later, it’s a joy that’s hard to describe. It’s like watching a seed you once planted bloom into something beautiful—on its own, but with a memory of your care.


Today, I felt that.


A child I taught in Class 8, now in Class 10, called me—just to thank me. I’m not even teaching him anymore. But he remembered. And that remembrance… it means the world.


There’s another student who never forgets to call—on Teacher’s Day, on Mother’s Day, and many other occasions. It’s the kind of thoughtful consistency that quietly fills your heart. Then there are students who gift me books for my birthday—books they’ve chosen with intention, hoping I’ll read them and return with thoughts to share. Others come to me with poems—self-composed, raw, and full of feeling—eager for feedback, wanting to be seen.


Each of these moments, these gestures, add a quiet joy to my life. The love they pour in, day by day, builds something meaningful and lasting.


And then there’s the Reading Club.


Starting it was a small step, but it’s opened so many doors—for them and for me. It’s become a space where students who may never have entered my classroom now walk in willingly, carrying their curiosity and creativity with them. I see their eyes light up during discussions. I watch their thoughts begin to take shape. Even those I don’t formally teach are finding ways to connect, to grow, to share. Their creative selves are gently emerging, and I feel incredibly fortunate to be a part of that process.


Teaching is often called the noblest profession, and I’m not saying anything unusual here. I know all teachers give their best. I know many receive this kind of affection and trust. But today, I’m feeling it deeply. Overwhelmingly. And I just needed to share it.


To my students: thank you for remembering. Thank you for showing up. Thank you for being who you are.




Writing what I feel, feeling what I write,

Nidhi Guglani


Comments

  1. Kiran Arora14 May 2025 at 11:30

    You are such a hard-working educator, keep it up Nidhi

    ReplyDelete

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