Small paperback books looked microscopic when wrapped in Thapa sir’s stem-like fingers. His fingernails seemed giant and wilted. A different feast of colors each day defined Thapa sir’s book covers. He was a bamboo tree clad in ironed cotton shirts underneath impeccable blazers. He made his colleagues and students feel like midgets. One could spot him from the street that merged to our schoolyard, bemused by words and oblivious to the swarm of kids trying to bring down the sky.
Behold her single in the field Young solitary reaper Reaping and singing by herself Stop here or gently pass?
When Thapa sir recited Wordsworth even Orpheus peeped in our fifth grade classroom.
“Thapa sir! You have got letters from Chitwan.” Nita ma’am knocked on the door of our classroom. Nita ma’am was a short, stout and tough woman who supported her family since the age of thirteen after her father was killed in a mob attack. She always read “The Happy Prince” with much sorrow.
Thapa sir handed his class over to Nita ma’am and hurried out smelling the envelope. Nita ma’am would only smile on seeing Thapa sir and she looked the saddest when he was no longer seen in the corridor.
Oh listen for the vale profound is overflowing with the sound
Nita ma’am looked out the window of Kathmandu valley. “The Solitary Reaper” drowned in sighs.
Thapa sir returned to classroom with meteor showers in his eyes and a halo around his face. Nita ma’am, the Solitary Teacher, attempted a withered flower smile as she left and Thapa sir was too oblivious to feel it.
“‘All the world is a stage’” and now my role is to part. Your young faces will always be in my heart.” Thapa sir was handing over his class to Nita ma’am for good.
Did Thapa sir look sad that day? He was going back to Chitwan where he found a better job and he would be closer to his sweetheart. For the next few days Nita ma’am wore sunglasses even in the classrooms. “Men and women are merely the players.” Nita ma’am recited every line with such gravity.
The gateman would bring letters from Chitwan to Nita ma’am now. “How is Thapa sir doing?” we would eagerly ask her. “He is doing well.” Her voice would quiver a bit and her smile would stagger. “Now who is going to read ‘Traveling through the dark’ for me?” Nita ma’am took her sunglasses out of her purse.
We heard of the fire that broke out in Chitwan. His sweetheart was cooking when the stove exploded and set Thapa sir’s apartment on fire. Thapa sir jumped in the kitchen to save her and burned his hands. We heard that she looked like a burnt tomato with her skin peeling off when they took her to the hospital. I imagined Thapa sir crying in the smoke, crying like rain. I wondered if he was carrying a book of OHenry’s stories when he heard the explosion. What color was the book cover?
Nita ma’am lost herself in a reverie in the middle of “Lord of the Flies”. She had forgotten her sunglasses that day. Her eyes glistened like dewdrops on a lotus leaf. The gateman brought Nita ma’am another letter from Chitwan. The shape of the envelope suggested a wedding invitation. Thapa sir was marrying his beloved in a couple months.
Nita ma’am was bursting into a wet smile and she laughed. We laughed from our heart. The class was over for the day. “Don’t forget to read ‘The Cop and the Anthem’ for tomorrow.” Why hadn’t I noticed the dimple on her left cheek when she smiled? Nita ma’am smelled the envelope and rested it on her lap. I stayed in class after everybody had left, pretending to look for a lost book. Nita ma’am looked so beautiful that day. I saw rainbows in her eyes.
Behold her single in the field Young solitary reaper Reaping and singing by herself Stop here or gently pass?
When Thapa sir recited Wordsworth even Orpheus peeped in our fifth grade classroom.
“Thapa sir! You have got letters from Chitwan.” Nita ma’am knocked on the door of our classroom. Nita ma’am was a short, stout and tough woman who supported her family since the age of thirteen after her father was killed in a mob attack. She always read “The Happy Prince” with much sorrow.
Thapa sir handed his class over to Nita ma’am and hurried out smelling the envelope. Nita ma’am would only smile on seeing Thapa sir and she looked the saddest when he was no longer seen in the corridor.
Oh listen for the vale profound is overflowing with the sound
Nita ma’am looked out the window of Kathmandu valley. “The Solitary Reaper” drowned in sighs.
Thapa sir returned to classroom with meteor showers in his eyes and a halo around his face. Nita ma’am, the Solitary Teacher, attempted a withered flower smile as she left and Thapa sir was too oblivious to feel it.
“‘All the world is a stage’” and now my role is to part. Your young faces will always be in my heart.” Thapa sir was handing over his class to Nita ma’am for good.
Did Thapa sir look sad that day? He was going back to Chitwan where he found a better job and he would be closer to his sweetheart. For the next few days Nita ma’am wore sunglasses even in the classrooms. “Men and women are merely the players.” Nita ma’am recited every line with such gravity.
The gateman would bring letters from Chitwan to Nita ma’am now. “How is Thapa sir doing?” we would eagerly ask her. “He is doing well.” Her voice would quiver a bit and her smile would stagger. “Now who is going to read ‘Traveling through the dark’ for me?” Nita ma’am took her sunglasses out of her purse.
We heard of the fire that broke out in Chitwan. His sweetheart was cooking when the stove exploded and set Thapa sir’s apartment on fire. Thapa sir jumped in the kitchen to save her and burned his hands. We heard that she looked like a burnt tomato with her skin peeling off when they took her to the hospital. I imagined Thapa sir crying in the smoke, crying like rain. I wondered if he was carrying a book of OHenry’s stories when he heard the explosion. What color was the book cover?
Nita ma’am lost herself in a reverie in the middle of “Lord of the Flies”. She had forgotten her sunglasses that day. Her eyes glistened like dewdrops on a lotus leaf. The gateman brought Nita ma’am another letter from Chitwan. The shape of the envelope suggested a wedding invitation. Thapa sir was marrying his beloved in a couple months.
Nita ma’am was bursting into a wet smile and she laughed. We laughed from our heart. The class was over for the day. “Don’t forget to read ‘The Cop and the Anthem’ for tomorrow.” Why hadn’t I noticed the dimple on her left cheek when she smiled? Nita ma’am smelled the envelope and rested it on her lap. I stayed in class after everybody had left, pretending to look for a lost book. Nita ma’am looked so beautiful that day. I saw rainbows in her eyes.
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