Budgam, May 17, 2025 – In the serene hills of Budgam, a small government primary school stands as a beacon of love and learning. During a recent academic visit to assess foundational literacy and numeracy, an inspector discovered something far more profound: a lesson in compassion delivered by an elderly teacher with a white beard and a remarkable bag of care.
The school, tucked amidst lush green lawns and rising hills, serves about 15 children in its pre-primary classes—nursery, LKG, and UKG. The inspector, expecting a routine evaluation, was struck by the children’s swift and accurate responses to questions about letters, numbers, and shapes. The teacher, seated comfortably on the floor like a mystic sage, beamed with pride, exclaiming, “It is we who taught them!” That “we” encapsulated a collective spirit of dedication.
Beyond academics, the teacher’s compassion shone through. When a four-year-old cried out, “Shar… shar… shirt ka button gir gaya!” (My shirt button fell off!), he calmly stitched it back with a needle and thread from his ever-present bag. Later, when another child fell and dirtied his face, the teacher carried him to the washroom, bathed him with soap from the same bag, and dressed him in clean clothes. No fuss, just quiet care.
This bag, slung over his shoulder despite a limp from gout, was a toolkit of kindness. When a child scraped his elbow, the teacher rushed to apply antiseptic from its depths, comforting the sobbing child. From broken buttons to bruises, the bag was ready for every small crisis.
The school itself reflected the teacher’s heart. Brightly painted walls displayed lessons on morals and discipline, funded by Rs 10,000 of his Rs 70,000 monthly salary. A tiny tin shed housed Kashmiri cultural artefacts—woven baskets, miniature samovars, and old musical instruments—collected from nearby villages to teach children their heritage. Corridor walls bore portraits of great personalities with simple biographies, emphasizing values over syllabi.
At lunchtime, the children formed a half-moon on the grass, giggling as the teacher fed them by hand, their shouts of “Me first!” filling the air. The scene was poetry in motion, a testament to the love that made these children, in a building with peeling paint and no fancy resources, so visibly happy.
As the final bell rang—than, than, than—each child hugged the teacher, receiving a kiss on the forehead and whispered words before leaving. The inspector, moved by the experience, recalled Khalil Gibran’s words: Your children are not your children… they are the sons and daughters of Life’s longing for itself.
This small school in Budgam, led by a teacher with a gentle smile, a limp, and a bag of compassion, redefines education. It proves that true teaching transcends textbooks, weaving literacy, numeracy, and love into the fabric of rural Kashmir’s future.
