When a teacher took a pause....

DEDICATED TO THE TEACHING FRATERNITY

FROM THE PEN APN

The whole class was silent. All the 128 students were silent because the teacher who was supposed to deliver his lessons was seen to be lost in a prayerful posture with his eyes closed, heads down and hands resting on the table. The silence continued........In the depth of silence the teacher tried his best to come out of the state of absorption but it was impossible on his part. The more he tried, the deeper he sank into his thoughts.

 A quote, which he came across, while teaching a text had struck a chord in his heart. The quote said, “Teaching is not a lost art but the regard for teaching is a lost tradition.”

He was a teacher in an institution but today in the class while reading the quote he experienced a flashback of his numerous teachers starting from the one who had taught him the alphabet to the professor of his last attended institution. All of them appeared in a circle as if they were playing marry-go-round keeping him at the centre. The teacher felt himself like a student and was lost in intense feelings of gratefulness for those persons who had taught him the ABC’s of life.

The silence was broken by a front bencher’s question, “What happened, Sir? Are you alright?” The teacher replied from a state of heightened emotion, “Yes boy, I am always alright in life because a few teachers had flawlessly shaped it. And you may take another 20 years to realize why I went speechless today.” The students could not understand what happened to their beloved teacher.

With a smile the teacher turned to the white board and wrote a sentence in capital letters to eliminate his students’ wide mouthed expressions. The white board was glistening with the words:

“A TEACHER AFFECTS ETERNITY; HE CAN NEVER TELL WHERE HIS INFLUENCE STOPS.”

Monologue of a flower

FROM THE PEN APN

I am a flower and in my short life-time I gather the beauty of creation and bloom with pleasant colours and fragrances so that men can see the beauty of creator through me. 

I am born to spread beauty. 

I speak subtly in the language of fragrance. I soothe the eyes and cheer both heart and mind. That is why I am plucked and given to your sweet heart as a token of your love. I am happy that I symbolize love and best wishes. 

The greatest time in my life comes when a lover offers me in the hand of his beloved and the beloved blushingly receives me. And accepting me the beloved accepts in her a chain of new creation that is love-marriage-children and so on.

But in some occasions I may fall also in the hands of a person who has a calculative mind and a stony heart and who may throw me on the table carelessly and will demand for a GOLD RING because for him/her I have no lasting value as compared to the yellow metal.

I do not know what hate is. That is why 20 years after when a ditched lover opens a book and discovers my dried corpse from the folds of the book, he places his hands on me, closes his eyes and draws a long breath. And from the corner of his closed eyes drops of shining tear come out. I am a witness of his love and he has preserved me carefully although his love-life was unsuccessful. 

What makes me live exclusively to myself

From the pen APN

Interacting with ideas and the laptop seems safer than communicating with other people around me. When I start positively with gestures of friendship, I find the responses of people around me to be too raw and bitter to put up with. And what I feel is that I have a very little patience. So I burst with fire and sound like a filament of an electric bulb whose fuse now blows out. Such violent outbursts cause momentary glare but in the succeeding calmness there is darkness or a dead stop. 

This is what makes me live exclusively to myself.

MEDITATION WITH/WITHOUT EYES CLOSED

From the pen APN

Closing my eyes I tried my utmost to silence many incoherent thought-waves that were appearing in my mind. I reclined on a revolving chair in the lecturer’s common room and slowly sank into the deeper realms of my being. I journeyed deeper and deeper into my being and became oblivious of time and my surroundings.

Breathing deeply I collected myself and consoled myself for being alive.Now I thanked the providence because I was not dead and above all I had some more time to live my life and follow my dreams. I slowly opened my eyes. The wall clock hanging above the world map in the common room told that it was mid-day.I saw the college peon, a man in his forties, dusting the office files and papers. He was completely absorbed in his own job. He had no time to read my mental reactions. Moreover, he did not know that I was observing him. I saw him and found that there was a rare level of satisfaction surrounding his face. He was lost in his wok and his satisfaction was nothing but the mark of his complete absorption in his job. He was truly meditating while on duty-the true karma yogi.

I told myself that I shut my eyes and need silence to experience meditation. However, he makes meditation happen in his normal activities by showing single-minded dedication to his duty.

Means differ but the goal is same.

A realization that came up while Googling

From the pen APN

 

In the last few years my brain has learnt not to depend on memory but to rely on Google. It is devastating as I know but the ease of not consuming my brain is highly alluring as compared to press my palms on my cheek and then wreck my brain for a piece of information. Searching through Google is like firing a guided missile to its target which has both speed and accuracy but remembering facts is like throwing a knife at the target by hand. In the latter case there may be hit or miss if you are not adept in your art. And perfecting an art is a matter of great effort and practice.

Now the question is how many of us would like to master the art of remembering things by proper training of their minds. Very few will devote their time to build a razor-sharp memory. It is because no one will like to travel on a bicycle by straining physically i.e. pushing the paddles, if he/she has the resources of traveling on Mercedes Benz. Although paddling on the cycle strengthens your muscles and lengthens your stamina, the journey by a car is preferred. The undeniable fact of life is that we are very much comfort loving.

As a citizen of the poorest of the poor state like Odisha (which is also in some way self-labelled) I easily find countless examples which can be cited to explain the dangerous height of human love for comfort and laziness. One of the brighter examples is our present complacent life with rice @ Rs 1 per kg. Similarly, importing bulk amounts of fish, potatoes, onion, etc from neighboring states to nourish our love for comfort has left us at the mercy of others. Our LAZINESS is slanting down the curve of our state’s economic growth and we are likely to make ourselves the worst beggars of a nation. 

At such a juncture, do not we need a change in our attitude or acts?