The Teacher I Never Wanted to Be

 The Teacher I Never Wanted to Be

-- Sai Varenya

I hate being a teacher—

Not the teaching,

Not the curious eyes

Or the minds hungry for meaning,

But this mask they force on me,

In this place

Where truth is a trespasser.

They say,

A teacher must be a role model.

But I’m not your flawless figure—

I carry cracks,

Scars unseen,

Flaws I don’t flaunt but don’t fake either.

Still, I stand

For truth.

Yet here—

Truth is an exile.

I am told to cook marks

Like recipes for praise.

Fabricate success.

Lure students with glittered lies

For the next admission season.

I speak what my mind refuses,

Nod when my soul says No.

Behind the curtain,

I’m not cast to shine,

But to serve shadows—

A puppet they prefer silent.

I was cheated.

Ignored.

Ghosted.

Felt like the air around them—

Present, but never seen.

At times,

I retreat into myself

And question my very breath.

Yet—I breathe.

Still here.

Wearing this uncomfortable mask

To please a crowd

That only claps when truth bows low.

I hate being this kind of teacher,

Who couldn't nurture truth,

Or build the future

With the bricks of values and virtue.

They worship marks—

But marks are just ink.

Degrees—just paper.

What matters

Is how you treat a stranger,

How you speak when no one’s watching,

What you choose

When no one applauds.

To all my students,

To colleagues

And the parents too—

Happiness is not measured in grades.

Peace can't be printed on certificates.

Wealth means nothing

If your heart is bankrupt.

True richness?

It’s in living freely.

In being honest—

Even when it hurts.

In serving with soul,

Not smiling for show.

If this world won’t let me teach

With truth in my hands—

Then maybe one day

I'll walk away,

To teach life

By living it

Loudly,

Lovingly,

And without lies.

Sai Varenya

04/06/2025

8.26 PM