In the bustling heart of Dharavi, Koliwada, where the air hums with the sizzle of idlis and meowing of cats, Bimla Aunty’s home sits like a gentle pause in a constantly moving world. The scents of snacks she once sold, such as chips and munchies, and the occasional cold drink, faintly travel outside, and her small plastic chair at the doorway remains ready for anyone who might want to stop and share a story.

She never meant to become a teacher. Born in Mumbai, she studied at St. Teresa’s High School in Santa Cruz and did her B.Com after her 12th standard. She then started working young, in the accounts department at Bombay Hospital. The job paid a decent amount each month, enough for her to live her life comfortably. However, due to personal reasons, she decided to embark on a new journey. Putting accountancy aside, she chose the rhythms of daily life instead: marriage, two children, a daughter who is now a dietician, a son working at JW Marriott, and an early entry into the world of tutoring.

Her teaching career began almost by accident. She started giving tuitions in her tenth grade and continued on and off, weaving it into her life whenever she could. A personal tragedy shattered her world, after which for six months, she could barely speak out of her grief. In that silence, however, she found a resolve never to let her mind sit idle again. She vowed to keep her hands and mind at work.

She started teaching children from her home. Some children she’s taught from the time they were in preschool all the way to the tenth standard. She takes pride in shaping them, learning each child’s unique rhythm – some need a gentle nudge, others require more incentive to study. Her greatest challenge was to teach a child with a speech impairment and learning challenges. When his parents had lost all hope, Bimla raised him through her carefully tailored teaching, surprising them not just with passing marks but also with high scores. She fondly remembers this victory, celebrated with sarees and sweet boxes gifted by the grateful family.

Bimla Aunty has lived through many changes in Dharavi, observing quietly how government decisions ripple into the lives of the children she teaches. She speaks about how the shift of curriculum SSC (Secondary School Certificate) to CBSE (Central Board of Secondary Education) has taken away the children’s vacations and left them with too much to study and rote-learn, and too little time to grow. She spoke much of how, back in her day, tuition was looked down upon. Over time, it became more normalised. Unfortunately, this took away much of the children's time.

She once taught for free, believing education should be for everyone. But she learned quickly that free things are sometimes taken for granted. To instill the importance of education in not only students but also parents, she started charging a small fee, enough to make parents care about their children’s progress. If a family truly couldn’t afford it, she would return the money at the end of the year, but she never exempted anybody. 

Her house is a small hub of neighbours stopping by and children’s laughter spilling from the walls. Her day begins at 4 AM with a prayer, a hot cup of tea, and a list of chores she ticks off before her students arrive. Evenings find her helping children with homework or teaching English or math to parents who never had a chance to learn. In her afternoon hours, she volunteers at a women's empowerment organisation just outside her lane. She finds time for sewing, small repairs, and even knitting, never letting her hands rest idle. 

Redevelopment is on everyone’s lips in Dharavi these days. Bimla Aunty sighs at the mention of it. She’s practical but wary. She knows the value of upgraded buildings, a consistent water supply, and legal ownership. But she worries too, worries that the sense of community she’s always known will vanish behind closed doors and shiny new apartments.

Redevelopment is good if it brings better living, but not if it breaks the bonds we’ve built, she says. Here, everyone shares one’s sorrows and happiness. If they are all put in towers, would they remain as connected as being able to sit on one’s plastic chair outside? 

Bimla Aunty may not have fancy degrees, but she has a lifetime of lessons. She’s taught with more than pens and books - she’s taught with patience, resilience, and a quiet belief that each child is a new horizon that she must conquer. She’s the teacher who shows up every day, not because it’s her job, but because she believes in the potential every child carries.