And in three days’ time, I relived my school life.

I close my car, and slowly walk towards the school gate. It’s 7.05 in the morning and I realize I have never come to school so early in my entire school life. The morning winds make me hum to rhymes in the air, I’m beaming at no one in particular, just excited for my first day to start again over here. Just then co-incidentally I find a student coming up with her mom, I make out that she’s a new student, and I go back to the time when my mom dropped me to MSB, as I got my admission in grade II.

Waiting for Hayat Khan (the gate keeper) to open the gate for us, I’m just having a ride down the memory lane and I’m literally dancing inside. Even the gate keeper is amused to see me at this time, however, I just tread inside and roam around for a while and observe the changes that have been made in the past two years.

Having no idea what to do I sit near the primary section for a while, because I had got like half an hour until the assembly? Just then, I see Maryam Bhen coming inside the school gate, we are both happy to see each other and exchange our greetings on this beautiful morning.

In my whole school life, Tilawat-ud-dua (assembly) was my favorite part of the day as a student and now as somewhat a teacher. I find all of my juniors equally excited to see me there and it feels great to get this warm welcome from them. The chants of dua and the atmosphere of matam make me grateful to be back in the abadi saya of Burhanuddin Aqa RA and Mufaddal Maula TUS.

As I make my way to my teacher Durriya Bhen for whom I have been asked to substitute, is overwhelmed to find out that it’s me who has been asked to do this job. Both of the sections of fourth graders are to be dealt with for 10 days as Bhen would take her leave. I’m over-joyed and nervous at the same time, but as these three days go on, I find myself attached to these students with firm glue. Every now and then they all ask me if I might teach them and ask me to come in their class, no matter who so ever lesson it might be.

I relive the days of having this beautiful relationship with teachers, the only difference was, at that time I asked for permission to enter the staff room, but now, I was supposed to do it without any grant. It made me feel weird because I’m no equal to them, they have always been and always will be, my teachers, the amount of respect they show me makes me respect them even more.

It’s such a fascinating play of events to be among my own teachers playing a role as a teacher myself, just after two years of graduation from school. The best part of these three days was; when I gave the sweets to the children of grade four for their hard work and stunning play-work in the presentation, they gleamed at me and gave me the respect of a teacher, and the second one was, when every teacher of mine told me “it’s great to have you back here”.

The insistence of your good up-bringing is, to return your skills to your Alma Mater. Therefore, being an MSBian I’m doing the same.

May Allah grant our Maula TUS, our teacher and mentor, a long healthy and prosperous life till the Day of Judgment, Ameen.

Once an MSBian always an MSBian,

Ruqaiya Lokhand.

Categories: Uncategorized | 8 Comments

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8 thoughts on “And in three days’ time, I relived my school life.

  1. Alifyah Nek

    Wow i am stunned so good that you could relie your days. Good luck with the teaching of grade four😃😄

  2. Alifyah Nek


  3. Tayeb Giani

    Wow ! Back in school 😍 It truly is a good news that you’ll be teaching in MSB.
    Thumbs up 👍🏻

  4. Sakina

    Always good to revisit places to know how much you have changed since you were last there 😊

  5. Nooriyah Mannan

    hi ruqaiyah ben.i m glad you came back to your HOME….
    the good news is being an MSBian from kuwait + INDIAN… i got admission in aljamea karachi
    and after i came here in pakistan….my teachers are still in contact with me…..i feel so proud that i m that close to my MSB teachers……i then realized that ONCE AN MSBian ALWAYS AN MSBian

    love your post…
    Nooriyah Mannan

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