Gyanu Rai Sapteswori 8, Chiurikha, Khotang

“I see life as a story. My mother’s story was a tragic one. They say she committed suicide. I am not sure why as I was just a toddler and do not remember the incident. But I know that she did not have a good relationship with my father. He had left her after I was born. She married again with another man and I assume that relationship failed too. Maybe it was too difficult to endure the pain of living every day. My maternal family took care of me and I eventually moved in with my mother’s sister. She and her husband were good people and I am grateful for the life they have given me. Because there were good people around me I could pursue my education. They could have easily denied me the privilege and it was their choice that made me who I am today. A small act of kindness can change people’s lives. And thus, my childhood dream of becoming a teacher came true. In these classrooms, I see different types of children with their own individual stories. Some get alphabets easily and some understand numbers. Some want to play with toys and some want to be left alone. So I treat them according to the kind of individuals they are. I do not force ‘education’ on them. I give extra time to children who need extra time and attention. I try to make learning a pleasant activity. I take them aside and tell them stories. These are not stories written in the books that they are given. They come from my own imaginations. There is conflict in these stories but there is a victory too. In these stories are a few tears, many waves of laughter, and a lot of wisdom.”

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