Story of My Father...

"My father was a clerk. He didn’t earn much. But every single day he worked himself to the bone, honoring his role as the breadwinner of the family. I still remember how he used to travel from Lohari to the city side each day by bus just so that he could earn those few rupees that kept food on the table for us. Growing up, my father was always a beacon of light. He demonstrated posivity, love and patience. Through his lessons, I managed to get into King Edward Medical College. To think that the son of this indigent man graduated from King Edward Medical College is something that comes off as almost figmental, no? Who not only studied but also had the honor to teach that esteemed institute. I've been teaching for 44 years now and that too with a simple MBBS degree. I have even taught post-graduate classes which is something a man with my qualification rarely does. Looking back, I realize that none of this is my own doing as this wouldn't have been possible without his intervention and I can never thank him enough for that.
One message I want to convey to the world is regarding the relationship between teachers and students. As a professor I do not understand the logic behind hitting a student. If a teacher hits a student, they are teaching them a strong lesson that if someone does something you don’t like, you should strike them. The duty of a teacher is to raise the future generation, not to hit them. I only believe in the language of love. Life revolves around the “Third Law of Newton” i.e. every action has an equal and opposite reaction. What goes around, comes around. The only way to earn respect is by respecting others.
Capping this off, there's a message that I have for the youth of my country: if you stay true to your religion and your country, all your endeavors are bound to reap success.Help others. Be giving with your time, your knowledge, your love and yourself. You are a gift to the world and you should share."

@giantbear