My Teacher v/s Mentor
It was raining heavily that day. Fresh breeze and even fresher the moment. I was in my convent school, sitting at the first desk in front of the window. Inside the classroom the teacher was shouting at us all giving us lessons and 'morals' to abide by. Telling us to give away our carefree attitudes and to become worried about our future instead. Losing her mind over how immature and loud 'we' were like she always did.
And I just sat there looking at and listening to my true mentor - the rain.
How I wish hypocrite humans could give up the act of teaching because they stood nowhere near to the nature who could teach us not where Nelson died, not what the square root of 5 is, not what communism can do to the world, but can teach us to live our lives, liberated from it all.
The teacher, went on scolding us, playing her part, giving 'lessons'. But I wish she could just disappear, and if she stopped and listened to my mentor I knew she could. She would no longer be trapped in this cream-walled classroom she could instead fall from the sky, enrich the grass and become the rain, to impart true life lessons.
I didn't utter a word while my teacher screamed but I didn't pay attention either.
I was enchanted by the silent teacher outside the classroom who would touch her students, give them messages of God and let them speak instead of her.
Could my teacher ever be an example to look up to? Could she fall selflessly to elate others? Would she spend her time with God and bring back lessons of life? Was she silent and peaceful?
If not, I wish she could have observed my mentor and learnt something.
And I just sat there looking at and listening to my true mentor - the rain.
How I wish hypocrite humans could give up the act of teaching because they stood nowhere near to the nature who could teach us not where Nelson died, not what the square root of 5 is, not what communism can do to the world, but can teach us to live our lives, liberated from it all.
The teacher, went on scolding us, playing her part, giving 'lessons'. But I wish she could just disappear, and if she stopped and listened to my mentor I knew she could. She would no longer be trapped in this cream-walled classroom she could instead fall from the sky, enrich the grass and become the rain, to impart true life lessons.
I didn't utter a word while my teacher screamed but I didn't pay attention either.
I was enchanted by the silent teacher outside the classroom who would touch her students, give them messages of God and let them speak instead of her.
Could my teacher ever be an example to look up to? Could she fall selflessly to elate others? Would she spend her time with God and bring back lessons of life? Was she silent and peaceful?
If not, I wish she could have observed my mentor and learnt something.
Comments
Post a Comment