The Pulse and the Porch

On certain days, aren’t we sometimes reminded of a gentle presence that made us feel seen, secure, and somehow lighter without ever requesting attention or needing to speak loudly. A benign presence that whispered without saying a word so softly, “You don’t have to carry it all alone,” and moved gently through your chaos.

This wave of thought transports me to the quiet of the early morning on my way to the ramp of the school, when the teachers and the students were just about making their way to the porch, there stood an inviting aura that stood smilingly on the porch, neither hesitant nor hurried. Mind you it wasn’t a familiar face that morning. But like a gentle breeze that carries the aroma of home, there was something oddly familiar about her presence.

And there she stood there—not to take attendance, but taking note, a note of grains in the silence.

 Was it the bags, the buried baggage, or the built-up barriers she noticed-or all of it in the time to come.

 Her smile didn’t ask questions. It answered them.

Her eyes didn’t scan. They saw.

And in that quiet, almost imperceptible exchange, introducing the comfort.

 A human who was not there to fix, but to feel. Not to advise, but to listen. Catch the pulse—not of the body, but of the being.

 With every nod, every silent “I see you,”  turned the school porch into something more than a space between the minutes of transition from home and class, drawing from hesitation to hope, from burden to belonging.

 And just like that, on an ordinary morning, the extraordinary unfolded — marking the beginning of a heartfelt journey between the deeply present wellness counsellor and the students.

Manita Hathi

Public Relations Officer

National Public School ITPL