Chapter One: The First Glimpse
(Sumaiya Parveen, HYDERABAD)
Date: Friday, January 16
Time: Around 11:10 AM
It was a cold January morning. The sun was out, casting a soft golden light, but the air still carried the quiet sting of winter. A stillness rested over everything — not the usual silence, but a deep, winter kind of quiet that you could almost feel.
I woke up a bit late, trying to stay calm, but my heart was already racing. Baba, after receiving a few calls from his friends, said, “Madam is waiting. Get ready, it’s time to go for your joining.”
I quickly dressed up. My hands trembled slightly, not from the cold — but from something deeper. This was my first-ever job… the beginning of a new chapter as a PST teacher.
On our way, I asked Baba to stop briefly so I could buy a small cake. It wasn’t anyone’s birthday — just something inside me whispered,
“Don’t show up empty-handed on your first day.”
When we reached the school gate, a janitor was sweeping. The ground was slightly wet from the early morning cleaning, glistening in the sunlight. I carefully stepped forward, trying not to slip, and looked ahead.
Standing at the doorway was a dignified woman in a scarf. I walked over and greeted her, “Madam Shazia?”
She nodded gently, and I extended the cake toward her — no words, just a warm gesture and a soft smile.
She led me inside to what seemed like a staff room. It was empty. A cold silence filled the space — still and deep, like winter itself had settled into the room. I sat quietly at one of the desks, holding my file close, listening to the sound of my own heartbeat echo inside me.
After a few minutes, two other teachers walked in. I greeted them politely. Soon after, Madam Shazia called in Ms. Aliza for the joining paperwork.
Ms. Aliza smiled kindly and sat beside me, asking for my details. I handed over the file, and she began writing — page by page, my entry was becoming real.
When it was done, Madam Shazia asked, “When will you start?”
I took a small breath. My voice was steady, but my heart wasn’t.
“From tomorrow,” I said.
As we stepped outside, I greeted another elderly teacher and said, “Allah Hafiz, Madam.”
She paused and smiled, “Say ‘Miss’ — not ‘Madam’.”
I smiled softly in return, “I said it out of respect, but I’ll remember.”
She smiled again — a quiet, knowing smile.
That was it. My first day. My first entrance.
A little cake, a few smiles, and a heart full of silent beginnings.
****________****
To be continued in Chapter Two...*
**Written by: Sumaiya Parveen Shaikh**
*A heartfelt journey inspired by real-life — the quiet courage of a first-time teacher stepping into a world of unknowns, hopes, and humble beginnings.*