Respect your teacher .The real hero of our lives is the teacher.

 

The one who carved me was also just a teacher .... although he was of secular education 

   Thoughtful and tender

• "Teacher" hit me hard one day ...

      I could give them as many "insults" in            my heart

      Give ..... given ...

      Intended .... also did .. that

      Whenever you get a little older ... you            will kill them ... of course ... Although              difficult ..

      But they kept on teaching me ...                        eventually ... time passed ... years                    passed 

      And then after that ... eventually they            got old too .......

      One day they met on a "bicycle", they            were quait old..

•   Their feet were swollen due to sugar ...          they used to cough a lot ....

       (Sometimes cycling without shoes ...               while my eyesight was very weak)

       Suddenly fell off the bicycle ....

        I picked it up right away ....

        As soon as he saw me he said "Rizwan            hey ... Barkhordar" ... how are you ??              how are you ...

        I ran out of a precious "car" ...

Very happy

Looking at me

He spoke with folded hands

(In a weak voice) while trembling .... his breath and brain were not helping ...

My son .... my brother ......

If you can, forgive me ... one day

Hit you so hard

Although I shouldn't have killed ..... they became very obsessed ..

By the way .. he killed .... he gave ... so that you become "something" ....

Show some talent ....

Don't let your future be dark ...

And today I am weeping to see you on some honor and "place" and ease of provision ... that my disciple has become something today sitting in the "car" ... and above all .... ahhh. ..... Supporting my weak and feeble body and soul ...... Thankfully ... that literature exists .. in you ...

Allah Akbar Kabira ....

Son, you can't measure my happiness.

And cry ... cry ...

Like children ....

Yeah Al that sounds pretty crap to me, Looks like BT aint for me either

I felt "punched" in the chest ..... arrows rained .....

The chest was throbbing .....

The word of the teacher was crossing the soul and the liver .....

It was the same teacher ... who held the pen in my fingers ... while I was unable to read or write ...

His years of hard work and longing .... and passion .....

Ah, I missed his advice so much today ...

Eventually I didn't stay ....

He "tormented" and held them to his "chest".

Sarah Road was watching this scene ...

How to honor a spiritual father ... a benefactor ...

Then he kissed their feet ... kissed their hands ... and wiped his eyes with his feet with tears ...

We - both teachers - students

* Keep hugging and crying.

There was a strange "smell" from his "chest" ... which, by God, I knew and felt ... a scent, ...

I could feel his "peace in my sad chest".

Eternal peace ... eternal comfort ...

Which ... when the walking servant found out ...

He also cried helplessly

My friends

The thing is .... don't become anything ....

Don't be an officer or a servant .....

Don't even get "good marks".

Don't even get good "grades" ...

But just do the "literature" of your "teacher" ... that's the success .....

Yes ... a mother is given honor and respect ... only because of her ... maternal relationship ... while the teacher is a training ground ....

 * And know .... that in fact '* reward * "not the teacher but" God "* gives ...

I will never forget this "meeting" ...

They were the ones who "trimmed" me ...

I was an "anonymous", "shapeless" * stone * ......

     So as much as possible, just           prefer "respect for the                     teacher"    and these are just         the "ladder" of "success" ...             my friend ...