Rains Washed Away My Happiness

Torn clothes and shabby tresses

Unpleasant dry dirt of mud stinks over the room

Oh, his bed and dear dust under it.

He sleeps on a thin torn carpet

And his pillow a rag of clothes

His Baago hut hurts him

Is he that poor?

Shedding tear has become part of his life

Tears have furrowed his cheeks.

Each day to meet maize corn and radish

Radishes have made his life

Now, can anybody compare him to…?

Has anyone dwelled like him?

With many black dots in life.

Cumulus appeared over orchard

Leaves rustled and blew along the ground

Heavy storm-

soon huge rain rained and fruits fell

The door opened and closed of its own

The rain-hit for two days

The earth vomited out on the third day

The lamp went off,

 and now is the only memory

The thoughts revolve, without stop;

That was a year passed from now,

When the family was about to have food

Gone were the affections from the wife and children

Gone were the riches

Gone were the wonderful times

All buried to death; in a jiffy;

Families, things, animals, homely home

Swept and thrown away by the landslide.

The man cried and still cries…

Hollow

Sometimes rain can be bad, he says.

This lonely desolation, this distorted assimilation

Is hard to feel and he breaks down.

Is he now living life in the dark?

Waiting for the death?

Things gone and gone forever

So he went near his small field

The field left by that misfortune

His hands gripped to a sped

He began to work in the rain,

And often sleeps in the potato field

Covering with another sack

Such a dreadful life overtook him.

Now birds sing in the sky

He feels sort of sad but glad as well

The sun had gone down already

Will it rise tomorrow?

He is living in the midst;

To survive or not to see the sun

Or strive more

To swim and swing against the nature

The hopes of brilliant tomorrow

Takes him through another rough day

He believes in his age-old faith

And that’s where he lays his life.

 

Man creates and builds, nature destroys everything. The poem says that the ultimate of everything is nature; wealth, health, and happiness. Nature provides and also robs everything that you have.

Teachers’ Day: From a Teacher’s Perspective

Coinciding with the Teachers’ Day today, I would like to write something about teaching and what it means to me. The best way I have learned to be a teacher is by looking at the way in which others teach me. Teachers are lifelong learners who relish the chance to grow and evolve. Moreover, the innocent enthusiasm of young students keep teachers young as they remind you to smile through.

In many ways, learning and teaching are ties to each other. Teaching means helping people to learn something. Teaching is learning, enriching and growing. Teaching is caring, motivating and inspiring. Teaching is collaborating/ equalizing, energizing and exhilarating. Teaching is dividing, equalizing and loving.

I gain fondness by seeing a person who learns and changes and gain understanding about the meanings of life and the world they live in and having the ability to be unselfish and worthy contributors to society. I help them to grow into what they want to be.

I have encountered many best students in my life who have in turn shaped my life better. They are Monu Tamang, Mahindra, Yangchen, Sonam3s, Susan, Karma to name a few.

A novice child comes into class not able to read. When he leaves in December, he will have become independent and understand the way of things and potential and creative solver.  I have to say, seeing the progression of a child and making a difference in a child's life from February to December is invigorating. That's what will make teaching mean the most to me.

Teaching to me means caring, nurturing, and developing minds and talents. It is about passion as it is about the reason. It's about not only motivating students to learn, but teaching them how to learn, and doing so in a manner that is relevant, meaningful, and memorable. It is about listening, questioning, being responsive, and pushing students to excel; at the same time, it's about being human, respecting others, and being professional at all times.

Teaching is more than just a job. It's a calling. It's an ever-surprising mix of grueling hard work and ecstatic successes, both big and small. To constantly improve teaching capabilities and to be there for the student, and to help with any problems they have, in or out of the class, to teach and delight are my motto of being in teaching.

There are many different learning styles as there are many ways to solve the problems. The ability to look at life in a different way and to explain a topic in a different way is one way.  Not everyone gets a subject as taught by every teacher. Images, pictures, trips, etc are some ways.

 

As a teacher I think, we need to have the ability to change, but it is also important to be able to keep hold of the good things. Some teachers may fear change, as change is uncertain, but it is not necessary for teachers to change everything they currently do in the classroom, but to change some things to make improvements. Change is a slow and difficult process, so should be taken step by step.

As teachers we should always remember the ‘Wise Old Owl:’

The wise old owl lived in an oak

The more he saw, the less he spoke

The less he spoke, the more he heard

Why can’t we all be like that bird?

The work of the teacher will not end. Its a continuous ripple effects on are always there somehow somewhere. We teachers must remember that if a student fails then: the teacher has failed; the examination system has failed; the evaluation system has failed and by and large the education system as a whole has failed.

Something

Everybody is doing something;

Working, talking, staring, and sitting,

Sleeping, standing, and waiting

Peeing…

I am doing nothing

Just watching

In a boulevard depot

A minute bus stop

I, looking

Doing nothing.

Everybody is doing something;

Driving, climbing, jerking, and crying

Reading, writing,and playing

Peeing…

I am doing nothing

But my mind is occupied by all these something.

A minute watch

Catch a touch

Of wall painting

And wall washing.

Everybody is doing something;

Selling, buying, tweaking, and pulling

Some happy, some sad, and eating

Some angry, some disturbing

A minute: Three people peeing

Wall painting or wall washing!

I am doing nothing

But my mind is occupied by all these something

And still feels like I’m doing nothing.

Note: The poem describes a minute bus stop in one of the terminals in Bangalore metropolitan city. Indian peeing on the wall is the most prominent thing one could see anywhere in India – in front of the crowd. Very embarrassing!