My Dear Professor

This is not an ode or eulogy. This is just homage to a man without whom I wouldn’t be half of what I am today. Mr. B.S. Bisht, my economics teacher at my school, St. George’s College, passed away last week. I don’t write this with the regret that I never thanked him for all that he had done for me. I did that every single time I saw him. My only regret is that I never got to say goodbye to my beloved teacher, advisor and friend. So, I write this today to keep him alive in my memory and the memory of those who had the privilege and honour of knowing him.

I first met you when you were in your sixties and I was barely six,

Little had we known that our lives would one day come to mix.

The first conversation we ever had was while watching a game of football on the top flat,

You made a friendly bet, and my team lost.

It was years later in class of economics that you called my name,

Asked a question and played a game.

I wish I knew then; the game was the subject you taught.

I lost that too and somehow gained.

You were the first among all, who talked about life,

About politics, philosophy and beyond the textbook row,

You know you dint need to, but we needed to know.

You were the first to show that a knowledgeable man is not a teacher;

To teach is to inspire; to create a passion for learning.

You laughed at those who took notes blindly,

“If you understand what I am saying, why write it down? if not, what’s the point anyway?” you often said kindly.

Everyone in class would listen and learn, not because you threatened to throw us out or mark us absent,

But because learning had never been so much fun.

I almost failed my economics exam,

I know you passed me only because you believed in who I am.

I can never forget you handed me my paper and sarcastically said “Fellow, you have done wonderfully well”.

Ashamed, I had no excuses to sell.

You asked me about my preparation and result in everything else,

Then lightly patted my back and said “If you can achieve this working last minute, just imagine if you worked hard”.

From then till now, I never forget those words.

How could you know and motivate by a simple statement?

Change my life and without a long speech -  just reason.

You would walk down with me till the school gate,

To discuss and debate about love and hate.

I hope one day I am able to become a bit like you,

Make a young student feel so loved and special,

And just by that you made me believe in me;

I told myself, my father’s professor is fond of me.

You would ask questions and call students “useless”,

A right answer would earn you the phrase “You are a genius”.

We kept in touch even after school,

Some philosophy, some advice, some sarcasm often came,

But my dear sir, you taught me how to play life’s game.

Ages apart, we were friends first,

Of heartbreaks and friendship, you would hear all my tales,

Meet my friends and offer your experience.

Teach me how to teach and how to learn,

Tell me where my fingers would burn.

Of all I achieved, I came to share,

You looked at me with that age-old sarcastic glare,

And of all the compliments I will ever receive,

Your words are the best compliment I shall forever keep.

“Fellow, you aren’t so useless after all!” is all you said,

And those words made me feel what I had never felt,

The pride of a teacher, the faith repaid,

The prize I won with all the love you gave.

So this one is for my teacher, friend and guide,

To teach like him I will forever strive,

There will be no other just like you,

But by these words,

I will always remember you!