<p>Our class teacher in the third standard became our most beloved teacher. Our deep bond with him made us eagerly wait for each school day. We never missed a single day to meet him. I proudly stood ahead of my classmates in the contest for his affection.</p>.<p>Affectionately called Mulla Sahab, he lived in a humble abode near the school in old Hubballi. A bachelor, he devoted his life to us, and every morning on our way to school, we visited him and diligently cleaned and filled the water tank. Our school days were enriched by the precious moments spent with him. He wasn't just a teacher; he imparted valuable life skills.</p>.<p>In the late 1960s, class teachers were responsible for teaching all primary subjects. Our interactions with them were filled with love, care, and invaluable lessons. The deep affection they had for us remains etched in my memory. I vividly recall an incident during a game period on the school playground where a dispute erupted between our division and another. To our astonishment, our teachers physically intervened, passionately advocating for us, leaving a profound impact on us. Their commitment and affection for us were unquestionable.</p>.<p>At the end of the academic year, my beloved class teacher was transferred to another place, but the love and affection he showered upon us remained etched in our hearts. Throughout high school, college, and even during my teaching career, there was a burning desire to meet him, but my efforts were in vain. His memory lingered in my heart for over 50 years.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Three years ago, I discovered he was leading a retired life in his native village, Tadas, about 25 km from Hubballi. Accompanied by a friend, I immediately made plans to visit him. Upon arrival in Tadas, we were directed to his teacher's residence by a local tailor. There, we met his family, learned that he was out in the field, and ventured to meet him with his kin as a guide. I spotted my teacher, now adorned with a long beard. Even after 53 long years, I immediately recognised the familiar face that had graced our classroom and hearts.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I introduced myself as his student from the school in old Hubbali. Now, I am the principal of a technical college. Recognition initially eluded him, but memories resurfaced, especially when we mentioned the quarrel he had with his colleague on our behalf. As we delved into the past, reminiscing about school and life, he questioned the purpose of my visit. I confessed it was my lifelong dream to meet him, a teacher who imparted not just knowledge but also values, ethics, and manners. Overwhelmed, he hugged me tightly, tears glistening. With heartfelt emotion, he wished me well.</p>.<p class="bodytext">On my journey back home, I felt a sense of satisfaction, as if years of longing had been fulfilled. True teachers don't just educate; they inspire, motivate, and nurture values, shaping an ideal society.</p>
<p>Our class teacher in the third standard became our most beloved teacher. Our deep bond with him made us eagerly wait for each school day. We never missed a single day to meet him. I proudly stood ahead of my classmates in the contest for his affection.</p>.<p>Affectionately called Mulla Sahab, he lived in a humble abode near the school in old Hubballi. A bachelor, he devoted his life to us, and every morning on our way to school, we visited him and diligently cleaned and filled the water tank. Our school days were enriched by the precious moments spent with him. He wasn't just a teacher; he imparted valuable life skills.</p>.<p>In the late 1960s, class teachers were responsible for teaching all primary subjects. Our interactions with them were filled with love, care, and invaluable lessons. The deep affection they had for us remains etched in my memory. I vividly recall an incident during a game period on the school playground where a dispute erupted between our division and another. To our astonishment, our teachers physically intervened, passionately advocating for us, leaving a profound impact on us. Their commitment and affection for us were unquestionable.</p>.<p>At the end of the academic year, my beloved class teacher was transferred to another place, but the love and affection he showered upon us remained etched in our hearts. Throughout high school, college, and even during my teaching career, there was a burning desire to meet him, but my efforts were in vain. His memory lingered in my heart for over 50 years.</p>.<p class="bodytext">Three years ago, I discovered he was leading a retired life in his native village, Tadas, about 25 km from Hubballi. Accompanied by a friend, I immediately made plans to visit him. Upon arrival in Tadas, we were directed to his teacher's residence by a local tailor. There, we met his family, learned that he was out in the field, and ventured to meet him with his kin as a guide. I spotted my teacher, now adorned with a long beard. Even after 53 long years, I immediately recognised the familiar face that had graced our classroom and hearts.</p>.<p class="bodytext">I introduced myself as his student from the school in old Hubbali. Now, I am the principal of a technical college. Recognition initially eluded him, but memories resurfaced, especially when we mentioned the quarrel he had with his colleague on our behalf. As we delved into the past, reminiscing about school and life, he questioned the purpose of my visit. I confessed it was my lifelong dream to meet him, a teacher who imparted not just knowledge but also values, ethics, and manners. Overwhelmed, he hugged me tightly, tears glistening. With heartfelt emotion, he wished me well.</p>.<p class="bodytext">On my journey back home, I felt a sense of satisfaction, as if years of longing had been fulfilled. True teachers don't just educate; they inspire, motivate, and nurture values, shaping an ideal society.</p>