The Teacher

STUDENTS, this being the first day of our vacation that you have got from your bustling program, and you have been [I am informed]looking forward from the very start of the course to these treasured minutes I would like to regale you with a few anecdotes, or rather a long story about my own professor. This teacher was specially connected to me and he was one nice teacher, not only to me but to all his pupils and was also a dancer and a distinguished scholar. He had particularly focused on the subjects of Brecht and Stanislavski and was a fairly competent lyricist and a screenwriter. I had my sophomore and post-graduation under him and he developed the analytical ability in me and later this was my lead point and bad point, yes, by all means- This is our maiden day of recess. When I browse the baronial tableau from the lattice of my cabin, [I perpetually sojourn in private cabins- this has been my ritual since the university eras from the time I broke with my parents for learning purpose and had to flee from the family for a decade-], I see myriad ducks in a millpond that adjoin a wasteland and an old metallic barrier, partly worn by seasons of summer and shower, and a barred owl relaxing close by and scrutinizing the entire view. And also when hearing the coughs of okapis that might be dwelling in these regions, my brain is devoured by an uncommonly forsaken air. Still, I would like to overlook that and ponder on my present account.It often appears that no moment is ideal in life for any noble purpose to pursue and in a way we have to teach our mind over and over again to make us match for the immediate task we are into. My estimation is that this delicate struggle indoors may be worth because shortly after our fancied jobs are done, we possibly are conveyed to the real heaven we all are supposed to enter ….Since I am not a psychologist I don’t grasp much about it technically. But personally, I may declare that my essence is one equal to the one who is relaxing in a most gracious rose garden with all the aromas around….. Pardon this digressing though less grand and Sterne like…..And, my mother-Since then, I had seen many excursions in life, but emotionally this severance was very harsh and I recall very rightly, how I sobbed for many days in my quarters reflecting about my mama who was exceptionally attached to me. We were like two good friends, and one thing that distinguished me from my mother was age and possibly the experience she had in life. Otherwise, we were the same, we would crack jokes. Sometimes she was like a guide, reprimanding me and remedying me, but still adored me from the depth- She loved jokes and had multiple volumes of such titles. Once she bestowed me a book called ‘Jokes for the John’. It was quite good, though some of them I could not grok….. Ok, my first episode about my professor, hope you are not fatigued —Since I reached from village background , my initial times in the city were rather laborious training, as far as conversance of the world is concerned, making me discover many ideas and share numerous tips with the buddies, especially my mates in the hostel, to share and roll in mirth, when nobody is nigh, roar from the bottom of the heart- One such friend would occasionally, not occasionally but quite frequently, exchange with me affable notes with allusions of friends and classroom events, and her disptches were abounding in expressions, such as Meno Male! or Ma, the sei grullo, that is distinguished by their moods and settings than the real meanings…-

[From a work of fiction that is in progress]

v