Kashani
Was child in fifth grade
And my age around ten,
Kashani, months older.
I had to walk for long
By school was his house.
School's head, Vahhaji,
His right hand, Garekani,
As masters, could punish.
This is how it was then
In our time and old days.
Good and bad varied with
Punishing mood and deed.
Policing taught students
Lessons, in many ways:
"Be alert, vigilant, of devil,
Escape is best success."
One morning, Kashani
Was late and was noticed,
Could not hide, nor escape
So, called him conductor.
"Raise right hand, straight
With palm up, and open! "
Chief ordered, demanded.
His frown and anger,
Spoke with student
Of red palm in the pain.
He shivered with fear,
Used elbow as spear
To escape ruler.
The sharp edge cut his nerve,
He grew everywhere, but not arm!
'Lost' right hand, do you mean? Anyway, that would have taught the torturer a lesson.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good and bad varied with Punisher's mood and taste.... //.... Set in about 2-3 generations back, it gives a realistic touch to the student & teacher equation during those days. But the poem takes a very sad turn when a young student received punishment from his teacher and got himself injured. Thanks dear poet.