THE
ENGLISH TEACHER
(Malgudi Man, R. K. Narayan, died on
May 13, 2001)
He wove our childhood with deceptive
innocence,
We believed in his station along with
his friends.
Story flowed smoothly, characters popped up alive,
Some led a carefree, some a life of
strife.
Few emerged weak, demure and pathetic,
Some came about rude and quite eccentric.
Few left love-stricken with words
unspoken,
Into an ascetic in momentary delusion,
heart-broken.
Impish Swami, mundane Krishna,
contented Chandran,
Like you and me, everyday brethren.
Poor Sampath and his many missed
ventures,
Resourceful Raju, from guide to godly
lectures.
Simple narration of many a quotidian
situation,
Rhapsodised to perfect depiction.
All said and done.. he switched genres with ease,
Plethora of emotions never failed to cease.
Travails of hoi polloi were no less
intriguing,
A meticulous wordsmith, he kept
soldiering without fatiguing.
To make realistic people and places
far-fetched,
Little brother stroked in life, with pencil as he sketched.
Seventeen year old Rajam.. "An
angel from Heavens" !
Married her despite the house at sixes and sevens.
Soon Rajam left him, succumbing to
typhoid,
Languishing in melancholy, he could
never fill her void.
Even tried jumping into her funeral
pyre,
Left with
little daughter and life in the mire.
Wonder ways of God, at a lonely man's
plight!
Sorrow on bereavement, firmed his
will to write.
Across continents and oceans,
Universe devised a ruse,
So that his genius met Graham Green,
his Muse.
A modest, humble, simple soul spun
magic with his pen,
To lose ourselves in his world, our
hearts continue to yen.
As pages of his books lock in with
our eyes,
We beam having well-spent every
single piece.
Kunjappa the "little one"
was how he was addressed,
Having a lawyer as an uncle, from childhood
was impressed.
Trains at the station too caught his
fascination,
To be a lawyer cum engine driver was his
ambition.
Kunjappa, B.A.LLB, Engine driver.. at
the age of seven,
On the bookshelf pasted the
credentials, as given!
To keep Rajam bewitched, up above in
heavens,
A racounteur par excellence with his
marathon sessions.
He left us this day, seventeen years
ago,
In his
books he lives with us, are yet to bid him ciao!
