Remembering the First Teacher of My Life

Madam Krishna M Tiwari is the first teacher of my life. 

It was in 1993 when I was enrolled at Tingtibi Primary School, a remote school located along the Gelephu-Trongsa highway in Zhemgang district. Madam Krishna, then, was a young lady, at the peak of her beauty, tall, slim, and fair, and just married to her husband. 

I was nine years old then, too big, old to be admitted in class PP. Our family had just moved to Tingtibi after the upsurge of protests in southern Bhutan posed risks to us and our home in Gelephu was demolished. However, due to good fortune, my father got a caretaker’s job at an orange orchard in Tingtibi, and there we built a small hut and called it our ‘new home’. 

That year, with the support from Madam Krishna, my elder sister and I got admission to the school, which has changed my life forever (for the better). Madam Krishna taught me English in class PP. She was a brilliant teacher, with a great passion for impacting her students with knowledge and values. She would look stern but was always taking care of her students. 

More specifically, those days Madam Krishna gave me special attention and care. Maybe because I was an older student, or just maybe she discovered different qualities in me. Soon after, I was offered a double promotion by the school, which means I was promoted to class II directly. 

Soon afterward poverty ensnared our family, as my father’s income was not enough to feed us. Unfortunately, my sister had to drop out of school to work on the farm and support the family. However, my parents continued to send me to school. During those trying times, Madam Krishna was very supportive of me and my family. 

It was in 2013, after 19 years, that I met Madam Krishna in Thimphu. Thanks to a journalist friend of mine who brought us together. I was working as a program officer at the Department of Youth and Sports after graduating from Sherubtse College and Madam Krishna was teaching at Etho Metho Primary School. In the beginning, I didn’t recognize her and she didn't either. One evening, after work, we were walking to our homes, talking about our work, hometowns, families, and education. 

“I studied at Tingtibi School,” I said after she told me that she had taught there. 

“What’s your name?” she asked curiously. 

“Riku Dhan Subba,” I replied. 

“Goodness, you, idiot,” she cried and punched me in the ribs with great force. 

That punch shook off my balance on walking. I felt that I deserved more than that, for not recognizing my teacher. I felt ashamed. After that, she took me to her home. And I was more surprised to discover that she lived in a building just 20 meters away from my apartment. 

Today I am a proud citizen of Bhutan, contributing to my society with my best abilities and knowledge. But without a teacher like Madam Krishna, I would not be where I am now. So there is no other better way to show my gratitude and appreciation to the first teacher of my life—someone who had shown me the better direction of life—than to wish for her today. 

A Happy Teachers’ Day, Madam Krishna. Thank you for being such a great teacher and thank you for everything! 

'Gift of God'

Today is her birthday. My daughter is three. She has celebrated her day, the first half day in the hospital and the other half at home.

Last weekend was all about her, we went to town for her shopping. She has got all the things she wanted and desired: a white satin dress with pink floral spots, a polka dotted hairband, pink princess shoes, and colorful balloons.

She was excited about her big day, often watching YouTube videos of birthday celebrations and clapping her hands, uttering joyously, “Yay!” 

We had planned to celebrate her birthday this time in Gelephu with her grandparents. She has not seen them for more than two years now due to the pandemic. Moreover, after the lifting of the mandatory quarantine, we felt it was a good time for us to visit village and meet her grandparents as well.

So to speak, my daughter came late into our lives. When she came, we got so happy and the feeling of being a parent was simply out of this world. We felt blessed. That’s why I named my daughter Prisa, which means 'Gift of God' and 'Beloved' in Sanskrit. She has been a healthy, intelligent, super active child, who loves her dad more than anyone else. She always looks forward to me returning home after office—I have to spend an hour with her playing, and only after that she lets me do other chores at home. 

 

So, everything was arranged for Prisa’s birthday. But unfortunately, she fell sick last Monday evening. We had to rush her to the emergency department of JDWNRH, my wife and I panicking, fretting, and sweating. At 12:30 a.m. she was admitted to the hospital. 

Regrets started engulfing me. Relentlessly. Undeniably. Brutally.

Didn’t we as parents do enough for her? Didn’t we give her adequate love and attention? Have we failed in parenting? Why does she have to feel sick so suddenly? Why God was unfair to us? One question after another ran into my head.

When the nurse started performing the intravenous therapy, my daughter cried in great pain. I just looked outside the window, staring at nothing, and I could feel warm tears flowing down my cheeks and my throat burning, choking. It was as if I was going through the pain.

That’s the time I told myself: My Princess, I will protect you from all circumstances, and you will never have to go through such pain ever again. This could be a father’s natural protective instinct.

Thankfully, after five days of treatment at the hospital, Prisa got better. She regained her health, she started playing, she started laughing, and she started eating again. We were so happy. She was discharged from the hospital with advice from the doctor and some medications to undergo at home.

No sooner did we reach home from the hospital this evening than we arranged a birthday celebration in a small way. Just three of us. She appeared excited wearing her new dress and sitting in front of her cake, candles, and colorful balloons. She touched her new dress repeatedly, looked at the cake and candles for a long moment, smiled, and then she blew out the candles clapping as we sang the birthday song for her.

And folding my hands, that moment, I wished her:

Wish you many many happy returns of the day to the loveliest girl in the entire world! Hugs and sweet kisses. May you live a long, blessed life. And keep brightening our every day with your sweet smile. We feel blessed just because of you. Love you so much!

Thank you, God!