Teacher on Wheels by Bindu Unnikrishnan | Short Story

The universe and its vast expanse has millions of stars. Some stars are so bright that they provide light to millions of planets, never knowing who benefits from its warmth. They only know to burn at its place while the planets just go around and bask in its glory and warmth.

Raghunath Mishra's story graced the headlines of numerous local newspapers, not merely as a testament to his skill as a teacher but as a tribute to a man who transcended the ordinary boundaries of his profession. He dared to dream on a scale so grand that even the universe, with all its stars, could not match the brilliance of his generous and radiant spirit.

Raghunath Mishra saw the state of affairs in the slums of Rajkot, where children were more familiar with hunger than hope. They roamed the narrow, dusty lanes with empty stomachs and vacant eyes, their futures seemingly etched in the same dirt that clung to their bare feet. For years, while teaching at Gandhi Public School, Raghunath had watched these children from afar, their plight tugging at his heartstrings, but his hands were tied by the constraints of a structured system that didn't reach out to them. There wasn't much he could do for them beyond his long working hours serving as a post graduate teacher at Gandhi Public School. Like any regular school, they could never see the light in him shining bright for a cause which were beyond the jurisdiction and written rules of the school.

Upon retiring, Raghunath knew he couldn’t spend his twilight years in the comfort of a home, watching these children continue their plight and being pulled into early labor. The dream that had lived quietly in the corners of his mind for decades now roared to life. He sold what little he owned, bought an old, rusted caravan, and transformed it into a mobile classroom—a beacon of hope on wheels. The inside of the caravan was a marvel of simplicity: shelves lined with worn-out books, a small blackboard nailed to the side, and a few benches that had seen better days. This was Raghunath Mishra’s school, and it was open to all.He named it ‘Gyaan Rath’.

Schools, teachers, publishing houses,and parents donated books and any possible resources for it to take shape.

Every morning, the residents of the slums would hear the familiar creak of the caravan as it made its way through the maze of narrow streets. The children would come running, their faces lighting up at the sight of their beloved teacher. The caravan would halt at a designated spot, and in minutes, it would be transformed into a lively classroom. Raghunath taught them everything—algebra, history, literature, science, but most importantly, he taught them to dream. His lessons were more than academic; they were life lessons wrapped in the warmth of his wisdom.

He was patient with their struggles, knowing that hunger often dulled their ability to concentrate. On many days, he would bring food, sacrificing his own meals to make sure they could learn on a full stomach. He taught them under the shade of trees, in the shadow of half-built structures, wherever he could find space. He was more than a teacher; he was a mentor, a father figure, and a friend.

The impact of his work began to ripple through the community. Children who had never held a pencil now solved algebraic equations with ease. Girls who were destined to be married off at a young age now dreamed of becoming doctors, teachers, and engineers. The slums, once silent and resigned to their fate, began to buzz with the energy of newfound hope.

Raghunath’s work did not go unnoticed. Journalists from across the country came to Rajkot to write about the “Teacher on Wheels.” His story became an inspiration, a testament to the power of one man’s determination to change the world, one child at a time. Yet, Raghunath remained humble, always deflecting praise with a smile and a gentle shake of his head. Government bodies took note of his philanthropy and he was awarded funds to facilitate learning and connect his informal school with governing bodies so that the children can appear for exams for their school leaving certificate or secondary school certificate.

One evening, after a long day of teaching, Raghunath sat in his caravan, watching the sun dip below the horizon. He knew his journey was nearing its end—his body was growing weaker, and the years of sacrifice had taken their toll. But as he looked out at the children, laughing and playing with the boundless joy of youth, he felt a deep sense of contentment. He had given them more than just an education; he had given them the tools to shape their destinies.

In the months that followed, Raghunath’s health declined rapidly. The children noticed their teacher growing frailer by the day, but he never missed a single lesson. He continued to teach until one fateful morning when the caravan rolled into the slum, Raghunath did not emerge. The children gathered around, their hearts heavy with a sense of foreboding. When they finally entered the caravan, they found him seated at his usual spot, his head resting peacefully on his chest, a faint smile on his lips. He had passed away, but not before fulfilling his life’s purpose.

Raghunath Mishra’s death was mourned by the entire town of Rajkot. His funeral was attended by thousands—students, parents, teachers, and ordinary citizens, all of whom had been touched by his selflessness. The caravan, his beloved classroom on wheels, was preserved as a memorial, a symbol of his legacy.

But Raghunath’s story didn’t end there. The children he had taught grew up to become doctors, teachers, and social workers, each of them carrying a part of his spirit within them. They took up his mantle, ensuring that the caravan continued to roll through the slums, bringing education and hope to the underprivileged.

Raghunath Mishra was gone, but his dream lived on in the hearts and minds of the children he had once taught. The teacher who had given everything had left behind a legacy that would continue to inspire generations to come—a legacy of love, sacrifice, and the unshakeable belief that education could change the world.

A teacher is a powerhouse. It's high time they get their due recognition, respect and honor.

About the Author

Bindu Unnikrishnan is a Physics teacher at a city school in Pune who was recently crowned Mrs. Maharashtra 2023 in the Elite category. She embodies the qualities of modern womanhood with grace, strength, and intellect. Her achievement in this prestigious title reflects her dedication, resilience, and multifaceted personality. In addition to her work as an educator, Bindu is also a talented writer and poet. She has contributed to over 50 anthologies as a co-author and has been featured in various digital and print literary magazines. Bindu is the sole author of ‘My Treasure Trove of Emotions’, a book in which she skillfully navigates the complexities of human emotions, crafting poetry that resonate with authenticity and depth. Through her writing, Bindu Unnikrishnan has become a voice that speaks directly to the heart. Her work is not merely an expression of emotions but a celebration of them, offering readers a space to explore and connect with their own feelings.” My Treasure Trove of Emotions” is more than just a book, it’s an experience that leaves a lasting impression, much like Bindu herself. She can be reached at bindu13@gmail.com.