M.D Dinesh Nair
ON THIS TEACHERS` DAY I SALUTE YOU MY STAR TEACHERS...
SEPTEMBER 5 is celebrated in India as TEACHERS`DAY and the celebration is done on the day which is the BIRTH DAY of Late Dr SARVEPALLI RADHAKRISHNAN [THE SECOND PRESIDENT OF THE REPUBLIC OF INDIA]who was a great teacher.
On this September 5 I am paying tribute to 6 of my STAR TEACHERS whom I have ever loved, respected and of whom I have ever been proud as they were and are my great teachers of all times.
MY FIRST STAR
She was all smiles from morning till evening
With a slightly concave frame and curly hair
She was like a guardian in the class
With no stick in hand and we all loved her.
She was perhaps very beautiful too
But I was too young and innocent to see such things!
She taught us English and Geography and
I still remember the big sun and small earth
She drew on the black board
With the smaller moon trapped between the two,
An eclipse explained but for me it was a sketch of beauty.
She was our Lakshmikutty teacher the most beloved
And I pay tribute to her sweet memory on this day.
MY SECOND STAR
He had huge spectacles with thick frame
And he often came into the class like a lightning
As he never wanted to be late by even a minute.
He spoke and spoke in Hindi even as we stared at him,
He taught with care and never fought with hard words
He knew almost every word in Hindi, I bet
But his Hindi was like Greek to Shakespeare.
He was ever merciful to me and my Hindi
And he stood by me when I read the stanzas
Of the day`s poem with unease
And corrected me in almost every line I read.
And he left us to chat among ourselves
Just before the bell
[During the last five minutes Salim Raj and Santhosh my naughty friends would whisper into my ears a lot of mischief about Lucy and Beena who had red lips and chubby cheeks and they sat far from us on their left benches]
He was SP sir whom we looked at with awe
I salute his memory on this great day.
MY THIRD STAR
He was the epitome of learning
His mouth spoke sweet Malayalam
And his heart radiated immense care and concern.
He would come near me and comment on my uncombed hair,
Then he would smile at my face,
Oh what a smile it was!
He used to ask me to read aloud each day`s part
And I still remember how I barked at the text book
As the girls sat closing their ears with both the hands.
When he left the class, we felt like a moon moving out!
He was Cherian sir our beloved teacher clad in white and white ever
I salute him on this great day with my eyes cast on the sky.
MY FOURTH STAR
There was a handsome prince in blue or pink
Who used to storm our brains with his great memory power,
Our Haridas sir, a man pampered by his father
He would teach us how to solve half a dozen problems
In a class in the backdrop of silence all within
And he would never touch a text book before us,
He would tell jokes immortal and we would laugh to no end.
Many a time I saw him smoking alone and
I wondered why he should discolour his red lips
Our timid Lalitha madam often ogled at him
And it was how to begin her romance she thought.
But he, the prince would never look back at her, I bet.
I salute him on this great day of his breed.
MY FIFTH STAR
He sat like a lion on the brown coloured chair
And taught us ‘Twelfth Night’ and ‘Arms and The Man’.
He sympathized with Viola and stood by reason
And his English flowed like sweet melody recited by a singer.
He would be absent once in a month
And we would look at the man in substitution
With disinterest cast on our faces and minds alike.
He used to be a socialist within
And that made him dearer to me outside the class room
When my SFI* comrades called me out
He would nod at me and I could go out.
He is Varghese sir whom I salute today.
MY SIXTH STAR
He had an oval face and a huge belly,
His English was American all throughout.
How terrific his classes were!
That accent, that modulation and those Alaskan tales!
All were a great experience to us all
His reading into Emily Dickinson`s death poems
Was beyond what one could expect from
A Professor of his times or these times.
When he taught the Principal would pass by our class room
With a smile transcending his cloak of white fabric.
We once saw his German Shepherd sitting by him
And both of them looked like two halves of a huge lion.
He was Edmund Peters and
I salute him with my eyes cast upwards on this day.
MY POEM HUNTER STARS WHO ARE TEACHERS ELSEWHERE
You are all the torch bearers of knowledge and wisdom
And you are all to feel proud of being TEACHERS
I salute you all on this day the 5th of September,2013.
M.D Dinesh Nair's Other Poems
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
1.Ms Lakshmikutty- Our class teacher in the 3rd class at St Anne`s School, Kurianad, Kottayam
2.SP sir- Hindi teacher in the 6th class at Sree Krishna High School, Kurichithanam, Kottayam.
3.Cherian sir- Malayalam teacher in 10th class at TPSHS, Trikkur,
4.Haridas sir- Lecturer in Accountancy sir in the pre-degree class at Keats College, Alagappanagar, Thrissur.
5.Varghese sir– Lecturer in English in the B.A Class at St Thomas` College, Thrissur.
6.Edmund Peters– Professor of American Literature in the M.A Class at St Thomas`College.
A LITTLE MORE:
S.F.I* is a Student Organisation in India with strong campus units all across Kerala and West Bengal.
Comments about this poem (ON THIS TEACHERS` DAY I SALUTE YOU MY STAR TEACHERS... by M.D Dinesh Nair )
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
A Dream Within A Dream
Edgar Allan Poe
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(November 1, 1871 – June 5, 1900)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- Phenomenal Woman, Maya Angelou
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- Fire and Ice, Robert Frost
- Annabel Lee, Edgar Allan Poe
- Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening, Robert Frost
- A Dream Within A Dream, Edgar Allan Poe