Last week while taking a round in school, I felt someone is sobbing somewhere. I tried to find the source of the sound. Up and below as it lead me to the basement. One student sat under stairs in darkness, his head down between his legs. He got scared the moment he saw me, stood straight and hit his head hard on the stair roof above him and went down again like a cloth falling from a string. Sobbing out loud. Pandemic fenced my travelling like anyone’s and it turned my attention towards my school. Taking Yoga classes, developing students skills around arts and photography, teaching conversation and language skills. Later when I asked Akshat, the crying boy, what he said took me by surprise. He told me that he fears his mother will die soon, that he cannot bear he will be all alone. His had already lost his father years ago. That evening back home, I decided that I will introduce my children to the wisdom of the ancients. Once a week I …