The feeling runs deep. The memories deeper. The sorrow has the tint of always to it. The loss is no ordinary loss. This week Karachi, St Josephs, I, lost a great teacher. Ms Senior, Shafiqa, Fikree left us seemingly stranded in a world without her.

The first instinct says its not possible. Its impossible to imagine so many spaces without her. She was a teacher who gave you her all. With the utmost sincerity. Your word had meaning, whether in earnestness or in jest. She made it a point to listen, to weigh, to asses and to react.

It’s been years since I met her, its true. Even though I used to never let time go without meeting her. But that story is for another day. So much of what she was to me lives on untainted, unaffected by the mistakes of maturity, pure and simple. The space she has within me only has love and respect.

The second instinct came in the shape of vivid memory, connected to deep emotion, set deep inside my conscious. Half a sheet of paper with “For Nadia” written on it. As Ms Fikree shared her love of good stories with us, she made the effort to initiate us into reading and truly enjoying what we read. She filled two cupboards with the best reading material a teenage girl could ask for. And every afternoon, after her day’s classes were done, she would take out books for those who requested them in writing. But that afternoon, I found a surprise for me. A book for me, just for me, because I liked it so much. Without records or requests. Just with a singular piece of paper with “For Nadia” on it. This came to me, as I drifted of, with so much clarity it startled me.

I will never forget you Ms Fikree. You taught me so much I know and also how to know more. And perhaps its true that its not possible that you are gone, because so much of you remains within us, and always will. For my mistakes, forgive me.