In today’s India, we often speak about the future — of the nation, of our children, of society. But who truly shapes this future? Not politicians or industrialists, not even scientists, but the school teacher. The teacher stands between the wisdom of past generations and the potential of the next. Every lesson is more than mathematics or history; it is preparation for life.

And yet, one truth troubles us: very few teachers in India are serious readers of good books. They earn their degrees, secure positions, and enter classrooms with the mindset of salaried employees. Teaching becomes a job, not a calling. But teaching is not like any other profession. It does not produce goods or services — it produces generations of citizens.

A teacher who does not read is like a doctor who never updates his knowledge. Reading is the lifeblood of teaching. It should extend far beyond textbooks — into history, philosophy, literature, science, and biography. Only then can teachers broaden the horizons of their students.

Children quickly sense whether a teacher is intellectually alive. A line from Gandhi, a story from Tagore, or an image from Carl Sagan brings lessons alive. That spark comes only from reading. Without it, teaching slips into rote instruction — dull, mechanical, uninspiring.

Sadly, our schools are filled with teachers who stop at the syllabus. The lesson ends where the exam begins. Only a handful inspire beyond the textbook. A recent case illustrates this decline: a century-old public school advertised for a headmaster. Over 200 applied, but not one stood out for vision or scholarship. The final choice was made not for intellectual merit, but for institutional familiarity. This shows how shallow our pool of committed educators has become.

The consequences are serious. If teachers are not readers, students are denied role models. They may earn degrees, but they will not learn to think critically or imagine boldly. The teacher is the living textbook. Students may forget details of lessons, but they never forget a teacher’s example of curiosity and depth. If teachers stop reading, we risk raising generations equally uninspired.

We must revive a culture of reading among teachers. Schools should encourage them to read at least one serious book a month, and hold discussions around it. Training programs should include exposure to literature, philosophy, and history. Teacher book clubs and reading circles should be as common as student activities. Above all, society must respect teaching as a vocation that demands constant learning, and provide libraries, resources, and time for it.

To every teacher reading this: when did you last pick up a book outside your subject? If the answer troubles you, let that discomfort spark change. Read not for exams or promotions, but for your own growth and for your students.

India’s future depends on what kind of teachers its children meet. If teachers rediscover the joy of reading, they will once again become intellectual leaders. Let this issue be a challenge: pick up a book, read it, and share it with your students. In doing so, you light the path for the nation’s future.  For in every classroom, the teacher’s mind becomes the seedbed of the nation’s destiny.

In India, parents play an outsized role in shaping their children’s early education. They are the most visible, vocal, and invested stakeholders in school life. This raises the central question: Are parents really the best guides for education, or do they sometimes hinder more than help?

Parents care deeply about their children and want them to succeed. Many sacrifice personal comforts to secure admission to a “good” school, attend meetings, monitor homework, and even provide extra tutoring. Up to Class 10 or 12, their attention can be obsessive. Conversations at home revolve around marks, ranks, and comparisons. At times, parents even try to live out their own unfulfilled dreams through their children — pushing them into medicine, engineering, or government service, regardless of the child’s own interests.

But the picture changes after school. The same parents who tracked every single mark often stop paying attention once the child enters college. This is puzzling, because college is when real education begins — when students specialise, think critically, and prepare for their future.

Even more troubling is the treatment of non-STEM subjects. Parents frequently dismiss the humanities and arts with the question, “What job will you get?” In doing so, they discourage curiosity and exploration. With all the obsession about scoring well in school or clearing competitive exams, parents rarely encourage genuine interest in a subject. This leaves students well-trained to crack tests but poorly prepared to think deeply, creatively, or independently.

Of course, not all parents fit this mould. Many do encourage independent choices, support unconventional careers, and nurture curiosity. And given the intense competition in India, it is understandable that parents push hard to ensure a secure career. But concern must not slip into control.
What we need is a shift: parents must move from being supervisors of marks to partners in learning. This means asking children what they understood, not just what they scored. It means talking about ideas, books, and current events at home, and above all, knowing when to step back and let children make their own choices.

Schools also have a role to play. By celebrating creativity, projects, and problem-solving alongside marks, they can help parents broaden their own definitions of success.

In the end, parents are not always the best guides if their role is limited to pressure and control. But they can be the best guides if they walk alongside their children — supporting, encouraging, and trusting them to find their own way.

And perhaps this is the real question parents must ask themselves: How far might my child have gone if I had not interfered in their choices? Many children, if left free to pursue what truly fascinates them, could discover talents, passions, and careers that parents themselves never imagined.

Parents must remember that they are not the sole guardians of a child’s journey in life. They are companions for a time — but the journey belongs to the child. The greatest gift a parent can give is not direction but freedom, not control but trust.