Riding through chuckholes,
bumper to bumper, tailgating almost –
on a windy morning, I finally reached my
and little one’s Alma mater to pick her up,
after her science project.
After dribbling through a maze of
rampantly parked two-wheelers and
pathways, I neared the entrance,
lo and behold,
whom did I bumped into –
My class ‘Teacher’,
who taught me,
vitals of accounting, statistics, management,
two decades ago, which are of no use,
but what she taught;
rules today –
‘basics of content living’.
I looked at her,
She gazed at me,
all I did was,
fall at her feet and seek blessings,
once more.
I was glad,
for she recollecting my name.
Who recalls you or your name,
in this hurried world, by the way.
She was happy,
I haven’t forgotten her, her –
teachings,
blessings,
scolding,
love.
I nodded on,
what She said and sighed,
“What you did, needs to be inculcated in today’s generation,
which is losing a battle every moment, for lack of understanding.”
Talking about her appearance,
She,
even today was the same –
charming, beautiful, and graceful,
which She used to be, twenty years ago.
It is me,
who has grown to wrinkles,
frustrated and lost.
It is me,
who rejoices in frugal victories.
Does it mean,
She hadn’t struggled,
all these years,
She did, but her noble profession,
ceased those storms.
Who says,
Teachers come, grow old, and leave.
Perhaps they wronged themselves.
How blessed are we –
Teachers have everlasting presence,
in our lives,
and without them,
we would be naked to questions of this harsh lives.
©AniruddhaSastikar2014.
