Teacher's Day

I have never understood the concept of having particular days in a year dedicated to different people. Would you love your friends any more on Friendship Day than on any other day? Well, anyway, today is Teachers' Day. As much as I was against the idea of appreciating our teachers only once a year, I had to co-coordinate a small event for our teachers. Although we had a time of about a week to prepare, we waited until the very last day to actually get down to work. Who are we to wrong the words of some great man who said "Old habits die hard"?
So, with approximately 36 hours in hand, we set out to collect money, order food, order tent supplies, get gifts for teachers, get a sound system, write a decent speech, write titles for each of our teachers, get the juniors to actually turn up for the event, the list was endless. Never having been the most senior batch of the department, I had never actually had so much work to do. The juniors could not do anything right, or so it seemed. Everything they did had to be redone. Every time I tried screaming at them and chiding them for not working properly, all I could do was end up laughing at how my voice couldn't reach even the third row of the classroom while I mentally cursed each and every person who had complimented me on my soft-spokenness. Somehow I actually got people to contribute enough money to reach the required target, with the help of people who could actually speak loudly, ofcourse! By 4:30 p.m. the tent was up and the food was ready. Finally, I thought, I can sit and catch my breath and compose myself for the speech that I had to make at the beginning of the event (which incidentally was scheduled to be 4 p.m). Just as I had settled into my little corner, "Sneha", somebody screamed. Reluctantly as I limped towards the source of sound, I was asked to write a thanksgiving speech for one of my batchmates. Too tired to refuse, I took the paper and pen supplied to me, found a corner, wrote a few lines and handed it over. Just then the teachers started arriving.
I ran to the mic and fumbled to find my voice. After looking for a while, I finally found it. After a little waiting for the teachers to settle down, I started my speech. After that everything was a blur. I don't remember what I said or what I did. Faint traces of running around, holding a mic, clapping and speaking remain. By the end of it, all that I was left with was a feeling of satisfaction and immense gratitude towards my teachers. As much as I may complain, they were the reason I knew everything that I did. Some were more liked than the rest but each and every one of them had in some way or the other taught me something. All I can say is that, I salute my teachers for actually having been able to drill some sense into our thick skinned heads.