Rejoice, Regret, and Rejuvenation

 When I was a kid, my father always brought a volleyball for me on his annual leave. Because of my volleyball skills at the time, I was a popular companion among many classmates. I wanted to play with my seniors on a full court but did not get the chance until I demonstrated the skills they were looking for. In my early teens, I was a first-team player in my village and a sought-after player at my school. In volleyball tournaments, I recall hearing my name called out by the crowd. We had much trouble traveling to the tournaments as a team. We had to sleep wrapped in hay and did not have enough money to buy decent food. However, the ecstasy I felt after winning was incredible. I cannot express how much joy the trophy brought me then. I recall every detail with great clarity. As a player, there were numerous difficulties but unimaginable fun and attachment. As a volleyball player, I cherished every moment of my life.

Life had to change. I had to continue my education. When I first arrived in Kathmandu in 2004, I attempted to join the Nepal Army as a Second Lieutenant. I was physically fit due to my hard work at volleyball practice. However, I was unsuccessful in the final stage of the recruitment process. The result broke my heart. I finished my B.Ed. and considered pursuing a job. Out of the blue, I joined a private English medium school. I made it through an academic year despite being a novice. The fantasy of becoming a national volleyball player and representing my country always haunted me. Doing an undesired job for survival was equivalent to capital punishment. I merely taught the students to push the sun down the hill all day. I cannot express how much I regretted not attempting the Second Lieutenant again. I regretted not having the patience to pursue my career as a player.

My life as a private school teacher was tedious. Academically I learned nothing significant. I sharpened my skills in spoken English, nonetheless. In 2015, I attempted the Teachers' Service Commission examination. I was selected as a Secondary English Teacher. My family members were not delighted to hear the news, but they also realized the importance of a permanent job. The first year of teaching in a government school was not satisfactory. A large number of students in the class often irritated me. At the beginning of 2016, I watched a video by Steve Jobs. (The text has been included in the grade XI English textbook now) In his speech, Steve says, "If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today? Whenever the answer has been NO for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something". It changed my way of thinking. One fine morning, I said to myself, "I could not do what I loved, but I can love what I am doing". I relished the classes, and interacting with the students was exciting. My personal life was discussed with my students. I cannot say my story inspired them, but it made me happy. I went to class and powered up. I started preparing materials and writing reflections. I was loved and admired as a rejuvenated teacher and a cheerful human being.

Learning never ends. Academic life is always connected to learning, unlearning, and relearning. I learned to lose as a player. Learning to emerge from a loss was a big achievement. As a human being, it is not possible to win every time. Sports taught me courage and discipline. Failures in Army recruitment taught me to remain calm in times of distress. The early years of teaching contributed to a great change in my life. I must accept that teaching was an undesired career for me. It just landed on my plate. John C. Maxwell says, "Our decisions, not our conditions, determine our quality of life". I still want to know whether our life is determined by destiny or decisions.

Nevertheless, now, I am a rejuvenated teacher. I am in love with my work of teaching. I have regrets, but they are not powerful enough to take me away from this profession. I have already decided to move on. Regrets have turned into rejoicing, and complacency has turned into rejuvenation.