The city was broken after the war. England had won it was said But it didn't feel like that we won. I remember the old smoke stained bricks of the inner city school. I remember it in sepia It had no colors back then. Nothing did.
Until she came to teach us. She was beautiful her silks flowed from her like clouds. So many colors reds and magentas and pink and blues
I looked at her and I wanted to be with her She was the brightest thing I had seen since the war had ended.
She said she was from India. And her dress was a sari. She had my heart with the gentle softness of her voice. Her windchime bracelets on her lovely honeyed skin tinkled. But it was her tranquility that floored me.
She would ask what have you learned today? share it with us. We spoke in a cacophony. Hush now children she whispered. listen and learn from each other. You will all get a turn.
Then when we were troubled she would drop an important meeting with adult teachers. I have an urgent need to speak with one of my students She said.
I remember once i said to her Mrs. Chowdhury. Why should we work so hard? there are no jobs anymore.
She said softly but firmly I know you all each and every one of you. Her sari swished even louder I knew I had said the wrong thing.
There is a teacher, a doctor, a nurse, a poet, a craftsman, a soccer player, just in this clas, i can see it, I Know this.
Then she opened the old classroom window. and the cool spring air filtered into the chalky room. The lilac perfumes drifted into the room. What is that fragrance class? It is Lilacs, Mrs. Chowdhury, we sang in unison. Yes, it is lilacs children. Last year they all died with the winter storms. But now they are back as sweet as ever.
The jobs died with the war. But they will be back. You must all learn as much as you can to take them. children. She never lost a single chance to teach us something.
I get back to the UK every now and then . I am a doctor. perhaps the one she saw in her class so long ago.
I call in to see her in her tiny retirement flat in Manchester.
She pours me a cup of green tea. Into a delicate china cup. It is grown in the foothills of the Himalayas she whispers it is picked young. so fresh so nourishing. Never losing her chance to teach me something new. Now tell me what new things have you learned in America .?