Those who can, teach.

Neeti looked at her completed homework one last time before she got up to submit it at the front of the classroom, where her teacher Mrs. Joshi was seated. She thought she had done a decent job, all things considered. Yes, there were a few areas where she had struggled – like when she had to use the word automatically and didn’t know how to spell it – but apart from those minor glitches, she was proud of the work she had managed.

Mrs. Joshi smiled kindly at her as she neared her desk. She was one of the last few stragglers; most of her classmates had already submitted their homework and were out of class.

“Everything okay, Neeti?” Mrs Joshi asked.

“Yes, ma’am,’ Neeti promptly answered as she placed her workbook on top of the pile already sitting on the desk. With a tentative smile at her teacher, she left the classroom.

Once outside, she realised that she was probably late to catch the school bus and so, she broke into a sprint all the way to the bus stop. She was nearly there, when she watched with dismay, as her bus pulled out of the parking spot.

Oh no! What was she going to do now? Her parents were going to be upset. She had missed her bus twice this month already and every morning before she left the house, her mom yelled a warning about how she better not dilly-dally around after school and go straight to the bus stop. They didn’t have the time to come pick her up from school, what with her dad’s work timings and the new baby keeping her mom occupied 24/7.

She drew a lungful of air as she sat down on the waiting bench near the parking where moments before her bus stood waiting. What was she going to do? She was dreading going to the school office and requesting a call to her parents.

Without realising, she felt a stray tear run down her cheek. This was silly. Why was she crying? Yes, they would be upset but she couldn’t do anything about that now, could she? She would just have to face the music once she got home.

“Neeti?”

Startled from her thoughts, she looked up to find Mrs. Joshi standing near her bench.

“Oh! Hi ma’am,’ Neeti stuttered. Mrs. Joshi looked around at the empty parking space and at the deserted surroundings.

“Are you waiting for your parents to come pick you up?”

“Uhm..ye-es,” Neeti lied, looking uncomfortable.

Being a teacher for over 10 years, it took Mrs Joshi all of 2 seconds to pick up on the lie.

“Do they know you are waiting for them?” she insisted.

Neeti looked away, guiltily, before looking back at her teacher.

“I need to go to the office and call them. I missed my bus.” She confessed.

Mrs. Joshi’s kind heart immediately thawed at looking at the crestfallen expression on her 6 year-old pupil’s face.

“Would you like me to drop you?”

Neeti looked astonished. A teacher dropping off a student was unheard of in her little world.

“I can drop you, but I will need your address,” Mrs. Joshi explained, matter-of-factly, “Do you know your address?”

“Yes,’ Neeti replied softly.

“That’s good, then. We’ll just go the office and let your parents know I will be dropping you, okay?”

Neeti immediately regretted her quiet acquiescence. Her parents were going to be so mad.

“We have to let them know, Neeti. They will be worried.” Mrs. Joshi explained, guessing at her young ward’s fears.

“I could pretend that I didn’t miss the bus?” Neeti suggested sheepishly. “If you drop me near the building gate, they won’t even know that I didn’t come by the bus. Then they won’t be worried…or angry.”

Neeti gave it a shot even though she already knew what her teacher’s response would be.

“But that would be lying, Neeti,” Mrs. Joshi said sternly, “What have we learnt about lying?”

Neeti looked down at her feet, embarrassed for even suggesting her teacher accompany her in her deceitful ploy. Ofcourse she wouldn’t agree. What had she been thinking?

“Shall we go make that phone call? Mrs. Joshi asked, her tone softening. She could tell that Neeti was worried about her parent’s reaction. The child had probably missed her buses one time too many.

Neeti nodded once, and with that Mrs Joshi gently took her hand as they made their way to the school office. After talking to the receptionist at the desk about the problem at hand, they were ushered inside the office and asked to wait while the receptionist looked up for Neeti’s home number.

“Will one of your parents be at home?” The receptionist asked Neeti. She nodded but didn’t answer. Her stomach was a ball of nerves as she thought of what her parents would say once they knew.

Neeti listened quietly as Mrs. Joshi placed a call to her mother and explained how she had missed the bus and if it was okay, she would be happy to drop her home. After a few minutes, during which Neeti supposed her mother insisted that she didn’t want them to be troubled in any way, everyone agreed that Mrs. Joshi would drop her home. It was not too far from where she herself lived; also, it helped that her mother had met Mrs. Joshi a few times for parent-teacher meetings and so, was comfortable having her drop her off.

**

“Got your seat belt on?” Mrs. Joshi asked, as she adjusted her rear-view mirror.

“Yes, ma’am,” Neeti meekly answered. Now that the initial stress of informing her parents was done, she was all too aware that her English teacher was dropping her home. They had a good 20 minutes of drive ahead of them and suddenly, Neeti wasn’t sure what to say.

“Is your mother still working at the hospital?” Mrs. Joshi asked.

“Not anymore,’ Neeti answered, “After my baby sister was born, she went on mat-uhm..mart-“

“Maternity leave?” Mrs. Joshi supplied.

“Yes,’ Neeti gratefully accepted.

“I didn’t know you had a baby sister. Wow! you’re a big sister now.”

“Yes, thank you, ma’am.” Neeti answered. She had heard variations of those lines over the last few months and while, initially, she hadn’t been sure how to react, she now responded to all of it with a customary ‘thank you’.

Neeti, you’re a big sister now!

Be a good girl for mom and dad. Don’t trouble them – they have their hands full with Naina.

You must be so happy!

Are you happy? Did you want a sister or a brother?

The truth was she was happy. Happier than she had ever been. She had always wanted a little sister and when she had first eyed the little bundle in the hospital room, cuddled next to her mother, she had thought her heart might explode with joy.

She knew once the baby came, her parents would be busy, and busy they were. Even though her little sister was tiny, she had them all dancing to her tunes. Neeti knew her parents had enough on their plate at the moment, so she tried to be as self-sufficient as possible. Previously, she had always depended on her mamma to do everything for her. Now, she tried to take care of her own work. She didn’t want to ask her mother– she looked so tired all the time. Neeti knew that was because her sister kept her awake at nights.

“How old is she now?” Mrs. Joshi asked.

“3 months,” Neeti repeated the answer she had heard her parents give to this query frequently. She found it quite strange that they counted her sister’s age in months. When she was asked how old she was, her answer was always “6 years old” and she stayed that way for an entire year. She never said she was “6 years and 3 months”. However, her sister changed her age every month and it turns out, if Neeti didn’t pay close attention to her parent’s answers, she could miss an entire month.

“Still quite small to play, then?” Mrs. Joshi smiled.

Neeti looked down at her hands. Even though she had never voiced it out, that was something that was constantly at the back of her mind. When her parents had told her they were going to have a small baby, she hadn’t anticipated just how small the baby would actually be. She was tiny. She couldn’t even crawl and Neeti was a little scared to hold her because of how fragile she seemed. When was her sister going to grow big enough so they could play? At the moment, she was too little. All she did was sleep, eat and cry. As understanding as she tried to be about the situation, the question for her was how many months did her sister have to be, to be big enough to play?

“She is very small.” Neeti agreed.

“She will grow big eventually,’ Mrs. Joshi appeased her, “Does she cry a lot?”

Neeti frowned, as she thought that one over.

“Not a lot. Mostly during the night, I think. That’s what my mother says.”

“That can happen. When babies are that small, they don’t understand that they have to sleep at night and stay awake during the day. They sort of do whatever they want. She will learn slowly.”

Neeti nodded fervently as she tried to learn all the little bits of knowledge her teacher was imparting. She had a lot of questions about the newest member of her family, but she wasn’t who or even if, she should be asking them.

Mrs. Joshi smiled as she saw the child deep in thought.

Her heart warmed as she realised how the little girl, in her own way, was trying to adjust to the arrival of her sister. She had a pretty big family of her own, with a lot of nieces and nephews, not to mention the fact that she had been a teacher for over a decade and so, she liked to think that she understood the ways of children better than most people.

She had not missed Neeti’s occasional messy ponytails recently nor the fact that her previously impeccable homework, now had spelling errors and incorrect sentence structures, indicating that the child was probably not taking any help while doing her homework. After this talk, it was starting to make a little more sense. Out of experience with her sister’s kids, she knew how a baby’s arrival could turn the otherwise standard routine upside down. She also knew, that this could be a tricky phase for the older child as they suddenly had to cope with parents who while previously had all the time in the world for them, now didn’t seem to have any.

She wondered how Neeti felt about this change in routine, how much she understood.

“Neeti,’ she said gently.

The child looked up at her, questioningly.

“If you have any questions about your homework, you know you can always ask me for help, right?”

Neeti looked a bit confused.

“If you have a doubt in your homework,” Mrs. Joshi clarified, “and you don’t want to disturb your mom and dad, just let me know. I can help you out.”

Neeti’s eyes rounded in amazement

“We can sit after school and maybe go through some of your lessons. I can talk to your mom, so she knows where you are and doesn’t worry. What do you think?”

Neeti looked a bit unsure. In all her years, she had never had anyone else help her with her lessons other than her mother.

“It’s just an idea. If you are not comfortable, then we don’t need to do it.” Mrs Joshi said.

“I can ask my mother…” Neeti trailed off. She could do with some help with her homework. Sometimes, she got stuck with her math, and who better to help her than Mrs. Joshi, who was all-knowledgeable as far as Neeti was concerned.

“Yes, that’s a good idea. I can talk to her as well.”

Neeti nodded, a little more enthusiastic than before.

“Sounds like a plan!” Mrs Joshi smiled.

For the remainder of the journey, they spoke about general things or rather Neeti spoke and Mrs. Joshi listened. She talked about how she really liked Elsa from Frozen – for her birthday, her dad had promised to buy her a Frozen themed cake; she also talked about how when she grew up she wanted to become a pilot, so she could fly those big planes all over the world. As Mrs. Joshi patiently listened to the little child explain about her one-time flight experience, she realised that it was moments like these that really made her day.

Shortly after that, they arrived at Neeti’s home. Mrs. Joshi helped her unbuckle her seat belt and then let Neeti lead the way to her house. As they stood waiting at the doorstep for her mother to open the door, Neeti glanced at Mrs Joshi and thought to herself – I am so lucky that Mrs. Joshi is my teacher.

She had made a 6 year-old’s otherwise bad day, a happy one.

***