Bijay Kant Dubey
The Professor - Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey
The university professor, lecturer and reader now the points
Of my deliberation, debate and discussion,
My kind perusal
And I perusing the papers
As for scrutiny and verification.
Those who are in the university,
It does not mean at all,
Are all in all, will be good enough,
As genius is not there in reservation or categorization.
Many readers read their papers not
But are instead of unreading,
Many just get transferred to other universities to return back someday
As commissioned professors, which but a got-up case, a hidden agenda,
A secret strategy for the stars-war programme
As I know the drama of posting and placement,
As have lived near the varsity campus to mark it all,
What it happens there in the proximity to it.
Many bluff-masters who know a little keep a high profile instead of a low one
While many real ones post it not,
Many teachers who join in as lecturers will someday naturally
Turn into readers and thereafter as professors
As for acquaintance and closeness,
As the university campus never disheartens anyone whoever comes to here
As for business or bargain or tuitions.
Here it is easy to be a professor from a lecturer to a reader
As the scope is vaster here,
The academic staff colleges will call them without any enquiry
As resource persons
Just to carry on the gossips too,
If the resource is not available,
The colleges will for seminar chairing and the guest of honour
Or the key-note speaker.
The devotees and clients who move out of the P.G. programmes
Will definitely ask for research guidance
Whether he knows or not, whether he reads the paper or not
And the other universities will definitely call for the viva voce exam
And Ph.D. examinership
And what more to complain to you? .
Many older teachers like not to be transferred to the university
As for to change their set up and establishment,
The house and sons and daughters
As these will disrupt their education
And will hamper
And so keeping in view, they decline the offer
And keep their temptation at bay
While the shrewd professors like to get it written
For to take over or to produce it
By saying that he has declined to accept or join
Or to say better he is at the college.
Together with it, I have seen many duplicate professors
Living near the campus
Of the newly-opened or the older university
Trying to work as guest faculty man
Just to poach into the fauna
Or to be a florist of the fauna;
Trying, trying to push himself forward somehow
By getting papers published and books edited
And even if he is not a poet, he will say
That he is a poet at par with.
These university men,
The ragged and rugged men,
The Irish patriots of Lady Gregory and the uncouth Nepali shilajit sellers,
I know them all,
Waiting to be deans, heads, professors, members, visiting professors,
Editors, research guides, subject experts,
Inspectors of colleges, registrars and so on,
But the lotus blooming elsewhere,
It may even in dirt and mud and the dunghill
As who is what it is very difficult
To assess and judge it.
Who has what, none can say about it
As because merit has nothing to do with post and rank,
As merit is of the footpaths,
Not of the chair
And I know it that it goes about wandering
For food and employment
Just like the wild blooms
Blooming and scattering over the unknown pathways.
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