The Bonds We Never Speak Of..
Stepping into the classroom today, standing before the same familiar faces, and greeting them with my usual energy and enthusiasm did not feel as easy or comforting as it always had. That one beloved presence—carrying a broad smile, a hint of naughtiness in his eyes, liveliness in his speech, swiftness in his movements, and a readiness to follow every direction of his teachers—was nowhere to be seen.
As believers, we accept that one day we must all depart from this temporary world. Yet none of us had even the slightest idea that our dearest Ayan Salaar would leave us for his eternal abode so soon, at the tender age of just 13.
My heart is heavy, my eyes are teary, and my soul feels restless as I write this. Still, I gathered the strength to hold my pen and put these emotions into words—to share a realization with the world. We, as teachers, share a deep and enduring bond with our students. It is not always spoken about, nor is it something we consciously display; it quietly reveals itself through fleeting moments, small gestures, and the rhythm of everyday classroom life. Yet, beneath it all, this connection continues to grow—stronger and deeper with time.
In nearly 15 years of my teaching journey, I have taught countless students. I always understood the value of this bond, but I never truly realized its depth and intensity until that unfortunate day when I was told that my dear Ayan Salaar was no more. In complete disbelief, I kept praying from the depths of my heart that the news would turn out to be untrue. But this, perhaps, was the destiny life had already written for him.
With a heavy heart, I share this small poem—an attempt to express what words often fail to capture about this precious student-teacher relationship:
Dear Ayan,
The classroom no longer has you,
Yet it still echoes with your laughter.
The corridors no longer resound with your running feet,
Yet your eagerness and energy linger everywhere.
Your classmates are here, wearing quiet smiles,
Trying their best to seem okay.
But your seat still feels empty,
Holding a lifetime of your memories.
We still hear your murmurs,
Your gentle requests,
Your spirited protests.
We still see you, every day—
A loving presence that has left eternal imprints on our hearts.
Rest in peace,
My dear Ayan Salaar.
Your proud class teacher 💜
