As I sipped my coffee and read the morning papers
I came across a news bite which left me in tatters
It couldn’t be true, it couldn’t be I told myself a thousand times
My teacher of yore got murdered , she is worth a million dimes…
With a note of sternness, she used to peer through her glasses
Her eyes were so wide, they used to scare the masses,
With her defiant and confidante strokes, she used to teach us geography
Not a whisper could be heard, we were all scared of her you see.
A friend to all, when it was required, she was a teacher unparalleled,
There was a certain charm about her, in our minds she dwelled
With a Hmm and a raised eyebrow, she used to bring us to task
All of us always used to wonder, what lies behind this mask…
She was a Girl Guide Trainer and looked even more disciplined
We could not have been what we are today, sans her rules pinned..
Today as she lay in her deep sleep , I wish she could come back
I could just for once thank her for moulding us without a lack
Why would anyone murder a store house of knowledge it beats me
I cannot understand why I lost my teacher Sulochana Chary
My respects to her and my prayers that her soul should rest in peace
For I know she would be spreading knowledge even up there with total ease….
- The Dance Of Death (talestoread.wordpress.com)