School — What is it?
A little script of the thoughts running through this mind.
What we are if not the unbroken spirit?
The un-held spirit of incessant run. Every now and then we get battered and bruised. We silently sit a night through, under the tree of solitude or beside the pool of reflection.
As I work in the one of the sweet places called School, I am entangled in the unclear attitudes of
whether school is a place of resources or is it a place of learning?
Is it a mere cage for putting the children into the mode of captive life that they are going to live for the rest of their lives?
Should it not be more important to let them be, fall, yearn and then learn?
I do not know what is right and what is the ideal point of education. But a teacher should be a role of fun, where coming to school is a place of joy for the child and more importantly, the teacher him/herself.
It should be joy as a little child runs to an ice-cream cart on a hot afternoon.
And the great realization lies that the school goes with us, wherever we go, for everything we think, see or do. It is a little pulse of us overturned every moment into something new — in a gist we learn, we unfold, we become.