Shakespeare - In Celebration and Remembrance

23rd April marks both the birth and the memorial day of the Bard of Avon, William Shakespeare - a rare and poetic coincidence for a man whose words have endured for almost five centuries.

There is something about teaching Shakespeare that transforms me.

My energy shifts.

My voice finds a different rhythm.

I don’t just teach - I feel, I live every word.

And, perhaps that was always his intention…for his works are to be experienced, not merely studied.

Over the past few years, I have journeyed through some of his plays, and more profoundly, Sonnet 116 - a piece that continues to feel intensely relevant.

“Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments…”

I remember those sessions vividly - the classroom changed. The noise of the outside world faded, and what remained was the purity of love as Shakespeare envisioned it - steady, unchanging, almost eternal. It was no longer just a poem; it became a feeling shared across centuries.

What makes Shakespeare truly timeless is this: his writing captures every shade of human emotion.

Love and jealousy, ambition and guilt, hope and despair—nothing is left untouched.

And in today’s world - fast, distracted, and constantly shifting - his words offer something rare: stillness, reflection, and truth. In an age of fleeting attention and digital noise, Shakespeare invites us to pause, listen, and feel deeply.

Perhaps that is why boards like the Council for the Indian School Certificate Examinations continue to include his works in the syllabus, especially for teenagers. At an age when emotions run high and identities are still forming, Shakespeare does more than teach literature - he helps students understand themselves.

His characters wrestle with choices, consequences, and conscience - much like the young minds we teach today. Whether it is ambition in Macbeth or forgiveness in The Tempest, his lessons extend far beyond the page; they quietly shape thought, perspective, and character.

That, I believe, is why Shakespeare remains relevant even after almost five centuries.

When teaching becomes storytelling, and literature becomes emotion - that is when something magical happens.

This is not just a tribute to a literary giant, but a reminder - that words, when taught with passion, do not remain on paper.

They travel. 

They touch. 

They transform. 

But it is conditional - if you are ready to take in!

And in those moments, across time, Shakespeare continues to live—through the voices of millions of English teachers.

A Deep BOW to the GOAT!

FFT

We have developed a habit of turning everything into something more than what it is.

If we listen to music, it becomes background to something else.

If we take up a hobby, we start thinking about how to get better at it.

If we get some free time, we immediately look for a way to “use” it well.

Nothing is allowed to remain simple for long!!!

A song is no longer just a song - it becomes something to analyse, rate, or multitask with.

An evening is not just an evening - it has to be planned, filled, or made productive.

Even something as natural as watching a flower bloom is quickly turned into a photograph, a post, a moment to capture rather than experience.

We rarely leave things alone! 

There is always this quiet pressure in the background - to improve, to optimise, to make every moment count.

At first, it sounds like a good way to live.

Who wouldn’t want to grow, to use time well, to become better?

But there is a cost to this way of thinking.

When everything becomes a means to improve ourselves, we stop engaging with things for what they are.

We don’t listen—we consume!

We don’t sit—we fill time!

We don’t notice—we document!

And slowly, without realising it, we lose the ability to simply experience.

Not everything in life is meant to take us forward.

Some things are meant to slow us down.

A song you listen to without distraction.

An evening that passes without a plan.

A small, ordinary moment that you don’t try to turn into anything else.

These things may not improve you in any visible way.

But they restore something quieter—and far more essential.

The ability to be present without purpose.

Maybe, that is what we need to hold on to.

Because if everything in life is treated as something to improve, we may end up becoming more efficient…but a little less alive.

And, is that a trade-off worth thinking about???

A Life That Whispered Love

Some souls do not walk beside us every day. We meet them only in passing moments, speak in brief exchanges… and yet, they leave behind a quiet radiance that lingers within us for a lifetime. And when they depart, their absence settles deeply, almost intimately, within the heart. Leelappachi was one such luminous presence in the Padma Saras family — gentle in spirit, boundless in affection, and utterly unforgettable.

My association with her traces back to 1998, when my marriage was fixed. I can still recall the grace with which she welcomed me — not through elaborate gestures, but through a rare softness, a warmth so sincere that it made me feel instantly embraced. And that essence of hers remained unchanged through the years. Time moved on, meetings became infrequent, yet every encounter with her felt suffused with the same tenderness — those kind, compassionate eyes speaking volumes that words never could.

One of the most delicate threads that bound us was our shared identity as teachers. She would always acknowledge it with a quiet pride, as though it was a bond she deeply cherished. In her voice, there was both dignity and belonging. Those seemingly simple conversations, once taken for granted, have now transformed into treasured fragments of memory I hold close to my heart.

What lingers most profoundly is her warmth. No matter how long the gap between our meetings, she would receive us with unwavering affection — the same concern, the same gentle smile, the same genuine interest. She would lovingly enquire about everyone connected to me, about my work, about life itself… never perfunctorily, but with a sincerity that made you feel truly valued. There was no distance in her love — only a soothing familiarity that enveloped you with quiet comfort.

I met her last December, when she was in good health — a memory that now feels even more precious. It is still difficult to comprehend that she is no longer with us. Some souls leave this world silently… yet the void they leave behind is immeasurable. Leelappachi was deeply cherished by all in the Padma Saras family, and she bore that love with effortless grace and humility.

She will be profoundly missed in every gathering we share hereafter. Her gentle presence, her unassuming ways, her quiet kindness — all of it will echo in the spaces she once filled.

Goodbyes such as these are never easy. But hearts like hers do not truly depart. They remain… in our memories, in our silences, in the love they so selflessly gave.

Dear Leelappachi, you will forever dwell in our hearts — remembered with enduring love and warmth. And yet, I write… not because words will ever be enough, but because a heart like hers cannot be left unspoken. This is no tribute worthy of her — for a life so gently and gracefully lived can never be contained in words. Some souls do not seek to be remembered, and yet they become unforgettable. They leave behind not noise, but a quiet light… one that stays with us, long after they are gone.