Khursheed Dar
Each morning, as the first light of dawn spills over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and amber, I embark on a journey that has become the heartbeat of my days. This is no ordinary walk through the lush forests near my home in Kashmir—it is a sacred pilgrimage of the heart, mind, and soul. By my side, as always, is my little son, Faheem, his eyes wide with wonder, his spirit as untamed as the wildflowers that dot the forest floor. Together, we tread the winding paths, where the rustle of leaves and the melodies of birds weave a symphony that speaks to our souls.
It was on one such morning, under the canopy of ancient trees, that our lives took a turn we could never have imagined. As we wandered deeper into the forest, we came across a group of pastoral nomad children. Their faces, kissed by the sun, glowed with a warmth that rivaled the morning light. Their eyes sparkled with curiosity, and their smiles were as open as the endless sky above. In that fleeting moment, something stirred within us—a deep, unspoken yearning to connect, to share, and to grow together. These children, living so close to nature, seemed to carry the wisdom of the earth in their hearts, yet their world was untouched by the gift of formal learning.
As a teacher, I have always believed that education is not confined to the four walls of a classroom or bound by rigid rules. It is a living, breathing force—a spark that can ignite the darkest corners and light up paths yet to be discovered. The sight of those nomad children, so eager and full of life, kindled a fire in me. I saw in them a hunger for knowledge, a thirst for understanding that no boundary could contain. Inspired by their innocence, I resolved to bring the light of learning to them, right there in the heart of the forest.
With the generous support of Pratham, an organization dedicated to spreading education, we gathered simple materials—books, pencils, and notebooks—and transformed the forest into our classroom. Under the shade of towering trees, with the gentle breeze as our companion and the chirping birds as our chorus, we began our journey of discovery. This was no ordinary classroom; it was a sanctuary of learning, where nature herself became our teacher. We explored the magic of letters, the logic of numbers, and the mysteries of the world beyond the forest. The children, with their eager hearts and open minds, soaked up every lesson like parched earth drinking in the first rains of monsoon.
Each day brought new wonders. The children, who had never held a book before, began to trace letters with care, their small hands steady with purpose. They counted pebbles and leaves, turning the forest into a living arithmetic lesson. They shared stories of their lives—tales of grazing sheep, starry nights, and the songs of their ancestors—blending their wisdom with the knowledge we brought. Their laughter echoed through the trees, and their questions, so pure and unfiltered, reminded me why I chose to be a teacher.
At first, the parents of these children were hesitant. For them, life was about survival—tending to their herds, moving with the seasons, and living in harmony with the land. The idea of education seemed distant, almost unnecessary. But as they saw their children’s faces light up with each new word they read, each new idea they grasped, their doubts melted away. They became our partners, our cheerleaders, and our family. They began to see that education was not just about books; it was about empowering their children to dream beyond the horizon, to carve their own paths in a world that was vast and ever-changing.
Months passed, and the forest classroom became a haven of transformation. One evening, as the sun dipped low, casting a golden glow over the trees, I witnessed a moment that filled my heart with indescribable joy. The children, who had once been strangers to the world of letters, stood before me, reading aloud with confidence. Their voices, clear and strong, carried the words of stories they had only dreamed of before. They wrote their names with pride, their pencils dancing across the pages. And in their eyes, I saw something even more beautiful—a spark of possibility, a vision of futures they were now bold enough to imagine.
In that moment, I understood the true essence of teaching. It is not merely a profession; it is a sacred calling, a privilege to guide young minds toward their own greatness. Teaching is the gentle hand that steadies a child’s first steps into the unknown, the quiet voice that whispers, “You can do this.” It is the light that shines through doubt and fear, illuminating paths that lead to hope and discovery. As I looked at those children, their faces radiant with knowledge and dreams, I knew our journey was far from over.
Education is a river that flows without end, carrying with it the dreams of every heart it touches. As long as there are minds eager to learn and spirits hungry for wisdom, I will continue to walk these forest paths, hand in hand with Faheem and our newfound family. The forest, with its whispering leaves and ancient wisdom, has become more than a backdrop—it is a partner in our quest, teaching us patience, resilience, and the beauty of simplicity.
In the end, it is not the destination that matters, but the journey itself. In the embrace of nature, amidst the laughter of children and the rustle of leaves, I have found my true purpose—to teach, to inspire, and to light up lives. And as the sun rises each morning, I step into the forest with a heart full of gratitude, ready to nurture the minds that will one day shape the world.
(Note:The author is a renowned writer and columnist from Kashmir, celebrated for his profound insights into Kashmiri society, culture, and Sufism, khursheed.dar@33gmail.com)
