M.D Dinesh Nair

Veteran Poet - 1,733 Points (Thrissur/Vijayawada)

When My Mathematics Teacher Died - Poem by M.D Dinesh Nair

When he died, I felt no pain,
I am sorry.
When he died, I did not weep,
I am sorry.
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
And he was to redefine Mathematics perhaps!
When he was born no comets were seen.
Still he wielded 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 class next.
And there our equals had a great Master with wits.
They enjoyed the lines, the triangles and the numbers.
A few little lambs and their merciful shepherd.
We were literally like circus animals
And we cried 'saar..' as he 'taught' Mathematics.
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?
If there is a world after death,
Will he come there too and punish us?
Will there be our teacher waiting for us?
'God, thou art to decide'.

But someone whispers today in to my ears
That he will be waiting to hug us there...
A strange wish remains to be fulfilled-
We should love him somewhere once.
When he died, I felt no pain,
I am sorry.
When he died, I did not weep,
I am sorry.


Poet's Notes about The Poem

# I pray to God just for fun of it... I do know He is not there

-

WHEN OUR MATHEMATICS TEACHER DIED...



[Dedicated now to the departed soul of my Mathematics teacher Mr Shivaramkrishna Pillai who is no more]

Comments about When My Mathematics Teacher Died by M.D Dinesh Nair

  • Veteran Poet - 1,201 Points Shahzia Batool (6/20/2013 10:51:00 AM)

    hope he will not see my comment on this poem....it is Delightful really! ! ! (Report) Reply

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  • Gold Star - 24,732 Points Valsa George (6/20/2013 7:20:00 AM)

    When I read this, I am reminded of Oliver Goldsmith's Village Schoolmaster and the school master in William Blake's The School boy! Mathematics is a hard nut to crack especiall for lovers of language! No wonder, a Mathematics teacher turns a tyrant for such students! May your teacher oblivious of the law penalising teachers for corporal punishment rest in peace under his cold marble vault! (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Sunday, June 16, 2013

Poem Edited: Monday, July 29, 2013


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