Sep 052020
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They tirelessly pace upon the treadmill of life,

With habitual unflagging shrugs, through life’s hurdles they contrive;

For Teachers in their wilfully, steely demeanour,

Desperately conceal their simple, warmly loving nature;

With fond, tender musings, Teachers look upon their pupils –

As their very purpose of existence, As their reason for being human;

They treasure them, keeping them sheltered and close,

Yet always knowing the right time, to finally let them go;

A will firm, a force pressing,

Yet a being sentient, a soul doting;

Teachers are mortal people, with human imperfections,

Wonderful people, capable of the highest order of affection;

Teachers nurture their pupils, under their watchful eyes,

Embroiling their own hectic lives, to help them touch life’s unreached skies;

Fighting belligerently for them, listening understandingly to them,

A shoulder to cry for them, a familiar hand to hold for them,

Oft chiding them, persistently encouraging them,

But above all, truly loving them with an unparalleled constance;

They easily give away their hearts,

To their prized treasures, their dear pupils;

Without any ounce of expectation, without any hope of repayment,

They watch them grow into young teens, 

Cherishing every single moment, as time steadily streams;

Knowing all along the way,

That soon the day would come to part ways.

                                   – Rehaan Singh

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