This Kashmiri government school exemplifies the importance of foundational education and dedicated teachers in nurturing young minds amidst modern challenges
It was almost 10:00 am when I arrived at a beautiful school in Zone Narabal (Budgam) as an academic monitor. This picturesque government primary school is situated on the riverbank of the Sukhnag. The chirping of birds and the murmuring sound of water filled our monitoring team with serenity. The school read: Primary School Gundi-Khaleel.
When we, the monitoring team, stepped onto the lawn, though small, it was lush and green all around. A group of four students, aged between four and six, sitting in a circle and busy with something, caught my eye. We approached them. All of them stood up and sang: “Good Morning, Sir, you are welcome.”
“Give me your introduction,” I asked. One angelic child replied in a smattering voice, “I am Ujma shirrrr.”
I gently corrected, “You are Uzma?”
She repeated with slight irritation, “I am Ujma.” She was so bold that I kept quiet for a moment.
They all gave their introductions, and I still remember their names and boldness: Uzma Farooq, Ayaan Ahmad, Abaan Younis, and Aiman Showkat. I wanted to know what they were doing in the circle. I could see four slates (Takhti or planks) lying on the ground. There were soil ink bottles and stick pens. The slates had beautifully and perfectly written words. Other students were also busy writing on their slates. Almost all of them had neat and improved handwriting.
The Head of Institution (HOI) of the school approached us. I asked him straightaway about the use of Takhti. His reply was a lesson I’ll never forget.
He said, “In today’s digital world, where these innocent children are often found glued to smartphones, foundational development has suffered immensely. Using slates helps develop fine motor skills, promotes creativity, improves handwriting, and offers a sensory experience. Writing with a stylus on a slate improves hand and finger coordination. It also boosts concentration and focus. It is better hands-on learning.”
He added, “Slates also provide a reusable writing surface.”
A few yards away stood a beautifully decorated building with four rooms. In the corridor, I saw a biography board display. The HOI explained,
“This is to help students learn how to record information about famous personalities or even book characters.”
One of my fellow academic monitors noticed something at the end of the corridor, and we followed him. It was a cultural corner. The HOI said,
“We created this cultural corner by collecting items from our local community.”
I asked about its benefits. He responded,
“This helps link culture with education.”
The items displayed included:
– Wooden shoes (Khrav), used in olden times to walk on snow
– Grata (stone grinder)
– Kangri (earthen fire pot)
– A piece of Kashmiri carpet (which was once a major source of income), and more.
The walls were adorned with beautiful pictures of vegetables, fruits, animals, and birds. Their names were written in bold letters. I called Uzma to read a few of them aloud. She read them boldly. Another child, Aiman Showkat (aged 4), tugged at my shirt and said, “Sir, Sir, Sir, Main bhi padhti hoon.”
“I’ll also read, Sir!” she said excitedly.
Next, we entered the pre-primary classroom. It felt like heaven. The teachers had turned this large hall into a magical learning space. The walls were alive with colourful art. The room was buzzing with activities. There were mathematical tools, Rubik’s cubes, musical instruments, coloured pens, rings, dice, sketch pens, and more.
The HOI said, “By bringing these instruments into the classroom, we bring in joy, art, expression, and confidence.”
Around 12:30 pm, we were in the school office when I heard the screams of some children. I followed the sound coming from the washroom. To my astonishment, a female teacher had rolled up her sleeves, soap in hand, and was bathing the children. I watched from a distance. After bathing them, she started feeding them with her own hands.
Back in the office, I enquired about the staff and the school’s enrolment. Three teachers for 53 students. No Aaya, no helper. They were doing everything themselves—without making a fuss, without seeking excuses for underperformance, and without exaggerating their workload.
It reminded me of Rumi’s poetic lines from The Waterwheel. The educator must explore the themes of change and the continuous cycle of existence. We must not be stagnant. Everything is in a constant state of flux. Without complaining, we must keep changing for the benefit of our students.
Stay together, friends.
Don’t scatter and sleep.
Our friendship is made
Of being awake.
The waterwheel accepts water
And turns and gives it away,
Weeping.
That way it stays in the garden,
Whereas another roundness rolls
Through a dry riverbed looking
For what it thinks it wants.
Stay here, quivering with each moment
Like a drop of mercury.
The writer is a teacher and academic monitor at Government Boys High School, Narabal
Muntashir Kifayat Hussain
mu**************@***il.com