MY FIRST
ENGLISH TEACHER
A. N. Sarma
Oh! revered teacher!! Hallowed be thy name!
I pray to you – Deign to bless me ever!
Learnt I ‘A’ the first letter of English
From thee the world’s literary ambassador
I owe my debt for all that you taught.
It’s all still green in my memory–
Thy undaunted attitude in miseries
And thy profile of magnetic aura.
Though you taught language of the occident,
Thy handsome mien was oriental.
The tuft on the bare head
Sandal paste across the fore-head,
Attired in tattered ‘Dhoti’, torn shirt,
And a towel to match, on the left shoulder
Holding an umbrella with holes and notes too!
Walking to school in rain and shine,
Taunted by mocking tap-room blokes,
All this sweat for a mere sixty rupees!
Just for making a hand-to-mouth living!
Committed to teaching and concern for pupils.
Thy able handling resolved many a tangle,
The teaching skills were unique and mimic-worthy
For jaded souls, your story-telling was a stimulant
“Uncle Tom’s Cabin” narrated in quivering voice,
Made the flowing tears frozen for ever!
Oh Sir! God made us but boys and girls,
But thou has made us enlightened humans,
Not merely as a teacher but as messiah too.
None can see God without the help of a teacher,
As the Sun cannot be seen except in day light.