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When My Mathematics Teacher Died...
When he died, I felt no pain
Anywhere in my heart at any point of a second,
Our Mathematics teacher was a terror, you don`t know.
He was an odd man of wrong proportions.
When he was born no comets were seen.
Still he weilded the wand of power, a big rod
And tortured the young skins, I remember still.
He was like a Briton on the Indian land.
Mathematics was like a running stream in the section next.
And there our equals had a great Master with wits.
They enjoyed the lines, the triangles and the numbers.
They were little lambs and he the shepherd resurrected.
We were literaly like circus animals
Under him we were covering ever.
Even the gentle girl who scored well grudged him.
We were the Jews and he Hitler the second.
I don`t know much of Mathematics
I kept my head down when I heard about his death.
A strange fear was beginning to grip me
Will he wait for us with his rod in the other world too?
But someone whispered in to my ears
That he would be waiting to hug us there...
A strange wish remains to be fulfilled-
I should love him somewhere once.
poem
by
M.d Dinesh Nair
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