-By Tinaz Mistry

Think back to your school days and chances are, somewhere between the smell of freshly covered notebooks, morning assembly and the terror of an approaching report card, one teacher still stands out. Perhaps it was the formidable teacher whose raised eyebrow could silence forty children faster than any microphone! Or maybe it was the gentle one who noticed you were struggling before you found the words to say so. Or then, the tuition teacher who refused to accept your solemn declaration that algebra was clearly invented to ruin your life.

Teachers have a way of remaining with us long after classrooms, uniforms and examinations have disappeared. For us Parsis, education has always carried a significance far greater than marks and degrees. Our community has always regarded learning as a privilege and a responsibility. Families make great sacrifices to educate their children, institutions were established through philanthropy, scholarships supported promising students and teachers were accorded a respect that occasionally bordered on fear!

Of course, the legendary Parsi obsession with education came with its own peculiar mathematics. Bring home 92% and instead of immediate celebration, there was always the possibility of a parent peering over the spectacles and asking, “Very good dikra, but what happened to the other eight marks?” We laugh because many of us recognise it. Beneath that pressure, however, lay a profound conviction that education could open doors no circumstance should be allowed to close.

Across generations, multiple teachers, principals, professors and mentors have helped shape a community whose members have distinguished themselves in medicine, law, science, business, industry, the arts, public service and philanthropy. Behind many celebrated achievements stands someone whose name never appeared in the newspaper: a teacher who spotted an ability, corrected a weakness, demanded another attempt or simply said, “You can do better!”

That may be the greatest power of teaching. Teachers often plant seeds whose flowering they rarely get to see. Yet Teachers’ Day also invites us to widen our definition of the word ‘teacher’…

Our first teachers usually have no blackboard – our parents! They teach us how to speak, behave, share and distinguish right from wrong. In Parsi homes, grandparents have been extraordinary classrooms unto themselves, passing down family stories, Gujarati expressions, prayers, recipes, customs and memories of a community that existed before ours.

Sometimes wisdom arrives from people we never formally call teachers. A caregiver can teach patience and tenderness. Domestic staff can teach dignity, resilience and gratitude. Friends teach loyalty and forgiveness, while colleagues teach cooperation, restraint and occasionally the invaluable art of keeping one’s mouth shut at the right moment! Children teach adults too. They remind us to remain curious, recover quickly from disappointment and ask wonderfully inconvenient questions.

And then there are our pets. Anyone who has loved a dog or cat knows that some of life’s finest lessons arrive without a lecture. They teach loyalty without calculation, affection without agenda, patience, presence and the glorious wisdom of being delighted simply because someone you love has walked through the door.

Then comes the sternest teacher of all: life. Life conducts examinations without announcing the syllabus. Success teaches confidence, while failure introduces humility. Mistakes sharpen judgement. Disappointment teaches discernment. Grief rearranges our understanding of what truly matters. Difficult years can reveal strengths we never knew we possessed, while kindness received at our lowest moments can permanently alter the kindness we offer others.

No certificate accompanies these lessons, but they frequently become our most valuable education. There is something deeply compatible here with the Zoroastrian emphasis on the Vohu Mana or Good Mind. Knowledge acquires meaning when it helps us discern wisely, choose responsibly and act well. Humata, Hukhta, Hvarshta (Good Thoughts, Good Words and Good Deeds) ultimately remind us that what we know matters less than what we do with what we know.

Perhaps that is why the finest teachers rarely teach only a subject. Somewhere amid mathematics, history, grammar or chemistry, they teach punctuality, curiosity, courage, fairness, discipline and the confidence to question. They teach us how to lose gracefully, try again and think for ourselves.

And without realising it, each of us eventually becomes a teacher too. We influence younger colleagues, children, friends, relatives and sometimes complete strangers through our behaviour. Someone is always learning from how we respond to pressure, treat those with less power, admit mistakes or offer encouragement.

So, this Teachers’ Day, let us remember every person, experience and even four-legged companion that left us wiser, kinder, stronger or more aware. But above all, we salute the men and women who dedicate their lives to teaching. They enter classrooms year after year, facing changing generations, technology and expectations, yet continue the timeless work of awakening young minds. A sentence spoken today could remain in a student’s heart for decades. A little encouragement could shape a future doctor, scientist, artist, entrepreneur, parent, leader or simply a good human being.

Teachers may never know how far their influence travels. But generations carry it forward. To every teacher, mentor and life-guide who helped make us who we are, thank you. May we honour your lessons by becoming worthy teachers through the lives we ourselves lead.

Happy Teachers’ Day!