ஒழுக்கம் இல்லாத அன்பு, காலப்போக்கில் மெல்ல மெல்ல நமக்கு தீங்காக முடியும் என்பதை நாம் உணர வேண்டும்.

அன்போடு சுட்டிக்காட்டப்படும் தவறுகளும், செய்யப்படும் திருத்தங்களும் கொடுமை அல்ல; அவை அந்தக் குழந்தைக்கு நாம் அளிக்கும் ஒரு பாதுகாப்பு அரண்.

ஒரு ஆசிரியராக வ. துர்கா தேவி தான் சந்தித்த ஒரு அனுபவத்தை நம்முடன் கதை வடிவில் பகிர்ந்து கொள்கிறார்.. பிள்ளைகள் மீது கண்மூடித்தனமான பாசம் வைத்துள்ள பெற்றோர்களுக்கு இது நல்ல பாடமும் கூட.. படிப்போம் வாருங்கள்.

I joined this school just a month earlier after moving from my first school of appointment, and I was assigned as the class teacher of seventh standard.

That was when I met Jayaraj.

He was a small boy in size, but his words were harsh beyond his age. He would tease, bully, and hurt the other boys—not just with actions, but with language that no child should be comfortable using. The other students were afraid of him.

One day, I gently but firmly corrected him. I patted him on the back a little harder than usual—not out of anger, but out of concern—and warned him not to repeat such behavior. He looked at me with defiance, his eyes filled with resistance rather than understanding.

I continued my class, hoping the message would settle within him.

But the very next morning, before I could even enter the classroom, his mother stood waiting. The boy was beside her. In a raised voice, she questioned me—how could I touch her child, how could I discipline him that way. There was no space for explanation, no room for dialogue.

Then she said something that stayed with me.

He was a child born after ten long years of marriage—a long-awaited treasure in their lives. She spoke of him with deep attachment, saying he had some health concerns—small issues, perhaps, but to her they felt serious. She pleaded that he should not be given any form of physical correction.

“Just tell him and leave him,” she insisted.

From that day onward, the boy slipped completely out of control.

During lunch that day, I said to my colleagues with concern, “In the name of love, they are denying him the very guidance that could protect his future.”

He was growing up in a family that adored him without limits. His grandparents, too, constantly indulged him. Though the family was not financially strong, they treated him like a prince. Whatever he asked for, he received. Even if it meant borrowing, his parents fulfilled his wishes.

Slowly, without anyone realizing it, he grew up without understanding limits… without sensing responsibility… without ever considering his family’s struggles.

As a teacher, I have never seen my students as just names in a register. I see them as my own children. And like a parent, I believe guidance sometimes needs firmness. Not to hurt, not to dominate—but to correct, to shape, to protect them from their own mistakes.

No true teacher ever disciplines out of anger. A small act of correction is often meant to prevent a bigger fall.

But that day, a boundary was drawn. Not for the child—but for the teacher.

Days passed. Years passed.

The boy struggled in his studies. He failed in his tenth standard, later cleared it through supplementary exams, joined higher secondary, but failed in plus two and eventually discontinued his studies.

And life, slowly, began to reveal the consequences.

Recently, I heard about him again. Not in a way any teacher would wish to hear about a former student. He had fallen into troubling habits, lost direction, and even faced serious legal issues. The same child, once full of energy, now wandered without purpose.

More painful than anything else—his parents, who once shielded him from every correction, are now the ones facing the consequences of his actions. Their old age, which should have been peaceful, is filled with distress.

It is not easy to see a child you once taught drift like that.

It feels like watching a sapling grow without support, bending under storms it was never prepared to face.

Even today, I remember that lunch conversation.

And today, more than ever, I say this to every parent: 

Do not stand against a teacher in front of your child when the intention is to guide.

Do not mistake unchecked freedom for love.

Do not silence correction in the name of affection.

Because a child does not just need care—

a child needs direction.

At school, from morning till evening, every student becomes our responsibility. We try to shape them, protect them, and prepare them for the world ahead. But when guidance is constantly resisted, the child is left without boundaries—and the world outside is far less forgiving.

One child’s life, slowly losing its way, is not just his story.

It is a reminder.

A reminder that love without discipline can quietly turn into harm.

A reminder that correction, when given with care, is not cruelty—but protection.

And a reminder that sometimes, a small moment of firmness today

can save a lifetime tomorrow.

(About the Author: Durgadevi V, Graduate Teacher, GHS Nesal, Tiruvannamalai District)