THE BOY WHO HATED ME

Guru Purnima: The Boy Who Hated Me

Not every student greets you with a smile. Some look right through you. Some challenge your patience. And some, like Charan, teach you what it really means to be a teacher.

Charan was in 10th class. Sharp eyes, closed lips, and a wall around him so solid, no lecture could break through. He didn’t respect authority. He didn’t pretend to care. And honestly, I almost gave up on him.

One day, after catching him blank during a test, I took away his paper. He looked up and said, “It doesn’t matter, sir. No one cares anyway.”

I didn’t shout. I just paused. And that pause changed everything.

The Quiet Shift

I stopped correcting. I started conversing. A few minutes after class. A small joke here. A question there. Nothing formal. Just presence.

He didn’t open up. But he started listening. Looking up. And slowly, responding.

The Note

On Guru Purnima morning, a peon handed me a folded note. No name on it, but I knew the handwriting.

“I thought teachers only shouted. You showed me silence can teach too. Happy Guru Purnima, sir.”

That note is still in my drawer. No medal, no speech has ever matched the weight of those 18 words.

To every teacher out there:
You don’t always need to explain. Sometimes, being there is enough.
Happy Guru Purnima.