Is the teacher just a few pieces of chalks,
Digitally travelling on boards,black and white?
Is he a cane guard, with a handbook of dos and don'ts?.
Can he be a standing monument, or a sitting duck
To set precedents, for patterns of lifestyle?
Does he steal the show or succumb to his flow?
A trained teacher knows his turns and twists.
But an inbuilt teacher can make his inroads.
A teacher who waits for his wards, is their well meaning friend;
One who makes them wait, is politically groomed in power mongering.
He who keeps looking for the bell to go,is a vagabond.
One who leads beyond the bells, is a wastrel of others'time.
But one who tops up the listening zeal, through trendy,time bound sessions,
And inspires from point to point,becomes the inside of every learner.
P.Chandrasekaran.
Note:-Looking in retrospect,I do not know which aspects of my poem did I reflect in my career.My students alone can have the ultimate say.Similarly there could be a galaxy of other ideas on the proudest profession,called teaching.This humble sonnet is dedicated to my teacher/teaching fraternity.P.C
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