The Silent Architects: A Teacher’s Reflection on Guru Purnima

On the occasion of Guru Purnima, Associate Professor Sangeeta Relan, at the University of Delhi, and Advisory Board Member for our foundation, shares deeply personal reflections about her journey and the profound impact of teachers in our lives.

Every Guru Purnima, I find myself looking back—not just at the lessons I’ve taught, but at the ones I’ve learned.

Teaching has never been just a job to me. It’s a quiet promise: to show up, to guide, to care—even when no one is clapping, even when the change you’re creating is invisible. Over the years, I’ve realised that the true impact of a teacher often reveals itself in whispers, not applause.

The Moments We Remember

I’ve taught hundreds of students. Names blur, years pass, syllabi change. But certain moments stay.

Like the boy who barely spoke a word in class but once left a note on my desk saying, “Thank you for believing in me.”
Or the girl who struggled with confidence but stood tall during her final presentation, tears in her eyes, pride in her voice.

These are the victories I carry with me—not the exam scores or attendance sheets, but the shifts in self-belief, the sparks of realisation, the courage that blooms in silence.

Beyond the Curriculum

What we teach is important—but how we make students feel is critical because that can change the course of their lives.

I’ve learned that students rarely remember your perfect lesson plans. They remember your patience when they didn’t get it the first time and you kept repeating till they did. Your encouragement when they doubted themselves. Your belief when the world outside didn’t offer much of it.

As teachers, we hold space for more than just academics. We witness dreams form. We quietly cheer for those who are still finding their voices. We plant seeds, knowing we may never see the tree.

Who Is a Guru, Really?

Over time, I’ve come to understand that being a “guru” isn’t about being revered—it’s about being responsible. It’s about showing up, even on the days you don’t feel like you’re making a difference. And it’s also about learning.

From my students, I’ve learned to listen better. To be more patient. To accept that sometimes, silence speaks volumes. That failure is not the opposite of learning—it’s part of it.

The role of the teacher has expanded in today’s world. We’re not just instructors; we’re mentors, confidants, life-guides. And sometimes, we’re just the steady presence someone needs while they figure it out.

The Unexpected Impact

Every now and then, I receive a message from a former student.

“Ma’am, I still use that trick you taught us before every interview.”
“Ma’am that book you made us read changed how I think.”
“I’m a teacher now, too.”

What humbles me most is that some of my students—even from 30 years ago—still keep in touch. They message me on birthdays, invite me to their milestones, and continue to seek my blessings before important decisions. The respect and reverence they carry in their words reminds me why I chose this path.

And it hasn’t always been easy. There have been times, several, in fact, when people around me encouraged me to leave the profession. They said I was capable of doing more, of earning more, of building a different life. Some even coaxed and pushed me to explore other opportunities. But every time I considered it, the faces of my students, past and present, pulled me back. My love for teaching, and for them, was far too deep to walk away from. I knew that no other profession would give me the sense of purpose and fulfilment that this one did.

Those messages, those relationships, those moments of connection—they remind me that even when you don’t see the change, it’s happening.

On This Guru Purnima

Today, I want to honour every teacher who quietly made a difference. The ones who stayed after class to explain a concept again. The ones who listened without judgment. The ones who weren’t thanked but showed up anyway.

And just as I reflect on the students I’ve had the privilege to teach, I also want to bow my head in gratitude to all the teachers who taught me. The ones who shaped my values, challenged my thinking, nurtured my curiosity, and helped me become the teacher I am today. Whether they taught me in school, college, or through the lessons of life—they are all my gurus, and I carry a part of each of them with me, every time I step into a classroom.

To my own teachers—thank you. For the lessons and the silences. For the discipline and the empathy. I carry your teachings in every classroom I walk into.

A Final Reflection

Being a teacher means knowing your work may never go viral, never make headlines, and still choosing to do it with all your heart.

Because deep down, we know: we’re not just teaching subjects—we’re shaping lives.

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