My father, Haridutt Bhatt, was a teacher by profession.

Himani Shivpuri once spoke these words: “My father, Haridutt Bhatt, was a teacher by profession.” At first, they may seem a simple statement of family lineage, yet within them lies a world of meaning. For when a daughter remembers her father not first by his wealth, power, or status, but by his noble calling as a teacher, she reveals the legacy of wisdom and character that shaped her own path. It is not the fleeting glories of life that endure, but the humble and eternal work of those who devote themselves to teaching.

The origin of this reflection lies in Shivpuri’s life and her deep reverence for the man who guided her youth. A teacher is not merely one who imparts knowledge but one who shapes destiny. Her father’s work, though perhaps modest in worldly eyes, was in truth an act of greatness, for he sowed seeds of wisdom in the soil of countless young minds. And among those students was his own child, who would carry his lessons not only into her craft as an artist, but into the way she understood the world.

The ancients too honored such lineage. In India, the word guru was not just a teacher, but a remover of darkness, one who passed the light of knowledge to the next generation. In Greece, Socrates’ true wealth was not in coin, but in disciples like Plato, who remembered him long after Athens condemned him. And in China, Confucius was remembered first as a teacher, shaping hearts through example. So when Shivpuri remembers her father by his profession, she joins the long chorus of voices that honor the eternal dignity of the teacher’s calling.

History abounds with similar truths. Think of Abraham Lincoln, who often spoke of his stepmother as the one who taught him to read and who filled his heart with a love of learning. Though she had little herself, her legacy was imprinted upon the man who would one day guide a nation. Or recall Malala Yousafzai, whose own father, a humble teacher, inspired her to believe in the power of education, a belief that carried her voice across the world. In both stories, as in Shivpuri’s, we see that when a parent is a teacher, the child is given not only life but also light.

The meaning of this quote is both intimate and universal. It tells us that to be a teacher is not merely an occupation, but a heritage. The children of teachers grow not only in households of bread and shelter but in houses of wisdom, where the spoken word, the lived example, and the daily discipline of learning create an atmosphere rich with meaning. For such children, every lesson is double: the one in the classroom, and the one lived at home.

The lesson for us is clear: honor the teachers in your life—whether they are your parents, mentors, or guides. Do not measure them by the riches they earned, but by the lives they shaped. And if you are given the chance to teach, whether formally or informally, embrace it as the noblest work. For to be remembered by your child, or by any soul, as a teacher is to be remembered as one who gave life twice: once through birth, and again through wisdom.

In practice, this means carrying forward the legacy of your teachers. Live in such a way that their influence is visible in your deeds. Share what you have learned, not hoarding wisdom but scattering it like seeds. Tell the stories of those who shaped you, as Himani Shivpuri did of her father, so that their light continues to shine. For when we remember our teachers, we keep them alive in the great chain of learning that binds past, present, and future.

Therefore, let us cherish Shivpuri’s words: “My father, Haridutt Bhatt, was a teacher by profession.” They remind us that the title of teacher is among the highest that can be given, greater than wealth, louder than fame, more enduring than monuments. For while many names fade, the teacher lives on in every student, in every life touched, in every seed of wisdom carried into the world.