Dedicated to my Algebra Teacher

I was 13 when I moved to Australia. Before then, I had lived in the same house, on the same street with the same neighbours and went to the same school in India since I was about 2 or 3 years old. Leaving my friends whom I had known since 2 was difficult to say the least. Some of them I had known since before we could even walk or talk.  There were about 5 of us who all grew up together and we were all the “teachers kids”. We would spend the hours before and after school together. Each ones mum would take turns feeding us breakfast or dinner because every single one of our mothers worked overtime. 

My very first best friend, lets call her AJ, she has always been with me. Through sickness and in health. We’ve had our falling outs and we have grown apart but yet the few times we did say hello over the years since I moved to Australia it has been as though we’ve never left each others side. While I might not feel the same way or connection with her at times, shes always been proud of me. I know that. 

Her mum, Mrs. A, was the first person to feed me other than my mum or dad. Her mum always had a smile on her face. She was also my maths teacher in year 8. She was the first one to introduce me to the world of Algebra. I.HATED.IT. 

I used to sleep in her class, whinge, make witty comments. Honestly I have no idea how I passed her class. I have a funny feeling she might have tweeked my grades a little bit. 

On April 30th 2017, Mrs. A passed away. I hadn’t seen her in decades. I was not there when she got sick, I was not there when she was struggling with her sickness, I was not there when AJ was struggling with her moms sickness, I was not there in the last few days when she looked like she was getting better and I was not there when she fell asleep and never woke up. 

I called AJ yesterday and she told me that her mum would keep asking about my kids and ask to see them and ask what silly things they have been upto during the last few days. 

I have no idea why. And it’s weird to know that someone out there, even though it’s been decades, thought of me enough to care what my kids are doing. 

Maybe it’s  a teacher thing.

To all you teachers out there. Keep doing what you’re doing. It honestly saves lives. 

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