You know how life in a small village could be. We had no facilities in my village Ramgarh.
I was the only girl child among three boys. I remember helping my mother gather firewood, keep the fire burning to cook food and do chores.
When I was 15, my mother told my father to stop my education. Her argument was that the more I studied, the more dowry would be needed for my marriage.
He said, “Laxmi’s good at studies. She can study as much as she wants. I won’t stop her and I won’t marry her off early.”
I think my father – who’s a farmer by the way – understood my love for learning and also my love for teaching children.
You see, even when I was in school, I started teaching pre-primary children. This was in 1981 and I’d get an honorarium of Rs 175 per month.
My school was in a village 10 km away. My father would give me two rupees every day for the two-way bus fare.
But I’d walk for over an hour each way through treacherous hills, crossing a river and a valley. Once I even encountered a bear. I did this to save my bus fare so I could buy goodies for my young students.
I got married when I was 22. At that time I had passed twelfth standard and had just filled the application form for my graduate course.
I decided to stay back in my village with my parents to complete my education. It was very unusual for a married woman to do so. Especially in a village.
The challenges didn’t deter me. I finished my graduation and then post-graduation while working simultaneously.
My husband was living and working in Mumbai then. I would visit him whenever I could.
After my two children were born, I was determined they get a good education. So I decided to move permanently to Mumbai. I even declined a lucrative permanent job in my village.
In Mumbai I started teaching children of construction workers, domestic helps, etc., to help them join mainstream education.
I have taught more than 7,500 such children so far. Every child is like my own.
In 2008 my 16-year-old daughter succumbed to a freak fire accident. Even when she was in the hospital, I continued to teach.
Today her friends visit me, talk about their job and marriage. But no one talks about my daughter. I see my daughter in them and in every child I teach.
After all these years, my daily routine has not changed. I wake up at 4.30 am, finish chores and by 9 am, I’m ready to teach.
I live in a slum where safety and cleanliness are a big concern. Eve-teasing is rampant.
Since I began teaching, I’ve been facing resistance from lumpen elements in the locality. I face new challenges every day. But that doesn’t stop me from what I was born to do… teach!
The lead image of this story shows Laxmi Bisht teaching young children (Photo by Manu Shrivastava).
Reporting by Manu Shrivastava, a lawyer and a writer based at Mumbai. Photos by Manu Shrivastava, courtesy Laxmi Bisht and S Nikita, Unsplash.