Returning to My First Guru - A note to my teacher

Time changes everything except the ones who shaped us.

Memoirs from my diary: A note to my teacher

29th July 2026. To Miss Nina.

A note to you on the auspicious occasion of Guru Purnima, returning to my first guru.

In India, we grow up with deep reverence for our gurus. They may be spiritual masters, teachers from a guru parampara, or those who quietly shape our lives through their presence and wisdom. They transform the way we see ourselves and the world. I bow to the spiritual gurus who guide my path today.

Yet my first guru, my guide and teacher, was neither a spiritual master nor someone from my traditional lineage.

She was a young woman in her early twenties, always dressed in a simple yet elegant saree, neatly pinned, with a high neck blouse. She carried herself with remarkable confidence, vitality and elegance. Her Oxford English fascinated me and everyone around her.

I was seven years old, a spoiled child from a large, lower middle class joint family. She was my aunt's friend. Did I know then that she would become my first guru? Probably not. However, over the years she became my guide, my teacher, my mentor.

She nurtured my love for learning. I excelled in academics because she challenged me constantly. She never allowed my intellect to become my ego. Every achievement became an invitation to learn more.

For nearly 25 years, through school, college and into my early professional life, I held her hand and carried her voice within me. 

  

Then life happened. She got me married into one of the most suitable alliances from my community. This was followed by balancing career, motherhood, the beautiful chaos of raising kids while juggling other chores. Responsibilities multiplied, time disappeared into work, family and endless commitments. Without even realizing it, I drifted away from the very teacher who had shaped so much of who I had become.

Many years passed, and maybe my ego took the better of intellect.

And then one day, an unexpected message from an old friend, followed by the news of the passing of a beloved uncle another close friend's father's loss, brought life to a sudden pause. I had lost my own father, and I could relate to the pain of losing a parent.

By then, life had already taught me many lessons. Some through success, some through failure, a taste of betrayal and disappointment, misplaced expectations, and the quiet wisdom that only time can offer.

Something within me knew it was time to return.

With excitement in my heart and nervousness in my mind, I found my way back to her doorstep. The lost student, returning to her first guru!

By then I had gathered degrees, certifications and credentials. I had been blessed to learn from spiritual masters, remarkable coaches and internationally acclaimed mentors. I had moved from the world of business into the fascinating world of human development and professional coaching.

Time had left its own marks, shown in my grey hair, wrinkles, spectacles, a little more weight, and hopefully a little more wisdom.

“Time had left its own marks, and hopefully a little more wisdom."

The moment I saw her, something within me simply surrendered. She had grown older too. She was perched on her chair, at the table that must have witnessed so many students I remembered fondly. I noticed her hands, I remembered them so well, perfectly manicured with beautiful coats of polish, now gently wrinkled with age. Yet her handwriting remained exactly the same; her grip on the pen was still firm.

There were young students in the room, looking pensive and scared, albeit less scared than I was in that moment. Twenty five years disappeared in an instant.

Everything felt the same, yet so much had changed. She wore her familiar grace so effortlessly. I sensed multiple emotions passing through those beautiful eyes, revisiting memories of our time together.

What touched me most was not what she said, it was what she did not say. She never made me carry the weight of my absence. She understood my guilt before I could explain, forgave me without announcing it, listened, and gave me space, accepting me as I was. That quiet benevolence taught me something no certificate ever could. There is profound wisdom in forgiveness, extraordinary grace in accepting another human without judgement. Perhaps this was a reminder to me of where true teaching begins.

“What touched me most was not what she said, it was what she did not say.”

I have come to believe that the divine often reaches us through such ordinary looking teachers with extraordinary gifts to give to everyone around them. They prepare us long before we recognise the sacredness of their role.

This Guru Purnima, I wish to honour my first guru.

Thank you, Miss Nina Writer, for shaping my mind, my character, my values, my identity, for making me a better person.

Thank you for teaching me that knowledge is inseparable from humility.

Thank you for reminding me that the greatest teachers are those who accept us as we are, hold space for our imperfections, and continue to love us anyway.

The only gift I have consciously sought throughout all those growing years with you, and later through my life, is knowledge. To me, it has always been worth more than any wealth. I carry the treasure of your knowledge and wish to be a student of life forever.

Thank you for choosing me as your student. With deep gratitude, love and reverence.    

                      

                             Happy Guru Purnima 2026!

                             Kalpana Jadhav Khot (Kalpu)