The Patters Of A Physical Director Poem by Rajendran Muthiah

My most jovial friend
was a Physical Director.
He would always speak about
national institutes of sports.
But he hadn't sneaked in there
just to glance at the coaching
of indoor or outdoor games.
When he was pulled to the ground
to play Volley Ball, he'd box it
and puncture it with his thumbnail.

His interest to vet
the letters freighted
between the boys and girls
was enormous.
Boundless verve he had
to trace out the authors
of the anonymous letters.
His counsels and guidance
to the love-infested teenagers
spurred them to flee the school
and consummate their Platonic love.

In entertaining the teachers
with his jokes and jeers,
mimics and actions,
even the comedians of films
couldn't surpass him.
The Headmaster would rush
to free the teachers detained
at the Teachers-room and scowled at
them to go to the classes.
All the roguish boys were in his pocket
to keep the premises in order.
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