Long shot memory bytes

  I remember to have stamped
 On the hood of a little cobra
 As a boy of three or four years,
 And cried "Oh Lord Shiva!save me".
 I remember to have walked 
 To a couple of primary schools,
 Holding the edge of my loose, 
 Half trousers,in one of my hands,
 Walking forgetfully bare footed often, 
 Pulling my flat foot across uneven roads.

 I remember the hurricane lamp days
 In a solo Railway house with a tiled roof,
 Struggling to trace letters of the alphabet
 Through half lighted,shared lamp glows,
 And striving to form words from them.
 My nimble hands carried letters and figures
 On my crosswise broken slate,
 Like bullock carts carrying people,
 On many battered,narrowly curved streets.
 It looked as if I used my half broken slate pencil,
 Like a stick, that forced the bullocks to drive.

 I remember,my awkward adolescent days 
 At a less manned Municipal High School,
 Were worse an ordeal,for a weakling of my sort;
 My memories hit teachers,as hallucinations.
 They were mere shadows like passing clouds.
 Sitting on the ground,mostly for open air classes,
 Listening to class pupil leaders most of the time,
 Learning looked like shadow fighting.
 I remember one lean,but leonine Tamil teacher,
 Who bore the name of  actor Siva Karthikeyan 
 In a film,that the hero was ever shy to own.

 I remember the blessing of Jupiter,when I moved
 To another school,as a boy of fourteen;
 My father's transfer to a city with a rock,
 Ruled by the Elephant God sitting on its peak,
 Retrieved my'nine to fourteen'by a tricky tweak.
 I discovered myself,as a well grown learner,
 Redeeming the height of half a dozen years,
 In a mind blowing half a dozen months. 
 It was a miracle made by a lofty class teacher, 
 Of a less known Railway Mixed High school,
 Who with the courtesy of a cane,ever on hand,
 Had the power to build solid hopes from silly nothings.
 Ever do I remember,my Titan teacher,Mr.Isaac Dhanraj.
  Note:-
  {It was in the film Edhir Neechal that Sivakarthikeyan 
   shunned his given name}
P. Chandrasekaran