The Teacher!

THE SCULPTOR

I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it one day,
And as my fingers pressed it still,
It moved and yielded at my will.

I came again when days were past;
The bit of clay was hard at last,
The form I gave it still it bore,
But I could change that form no more.

I took a piece of living clay,
And gently formed it day by day,
And molded with my power and art
A young child’s soft and yielding heart.

I came again when days were gone;
It was a man I looked upon;
That early impress still he bore,
And I could change it never more.

- Anonymous.... 

Tributes to the Noble Teacher

I still remember those days when I learned English from my Dad. Those of days of memories. In the English class, the passionate presentation of prose and poetry took me into the world of joy; the joy of appreciation of the language. He learned himself, in spite of a rural background where he had to pass through green fields and channels with knee deep water to attend high school that was 5 miles away. After becoming a teacher (Science) he developed interest in English and acquired M.A. in English through Distance Education. Because of his thirst for learning he learned English and its beauty and nuances of the language. I remember those nights that he used to toil with the table lamp, as we were sleeping on the mat spread on the floor. As we sleep, he slip into the lessons to explore the language.

I really miss him. His passion for the language has spread into me. Though lot of altercations with my Mother, the moment she utters anything in English, my father melts. My Mother is a Tamil teacher who hated English, for she believed that why should she learn English, for they made us slaves for centuries. The message is loud and clear that, being in a rural area is not a barrier to learn English. It is in our mind. It is our mind-set that stops us from learning. I wow to dedicate my self to those who have a desire and drive to learn English, amides of various disadvantages and barriers to language learning, and help them learn English, on this FIRST DEATH ANNIVERSARY of this noble teacher.

(Those who want to learn English, reach me at avinaash.d@gmail.com)

I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it one day,
And as my fingers pressed it still,
It moved and yielded at my will.
I came again when days were past;
The bit of clay was hard at last,
The form I gave it still it bore,
But I could change that form no more.
I took a piece of living clay,
And gently formed it day by day,
And molded with my power and art
A young child’s soft and yielding heart.
I came again when days were gone;
It was a man I looked upon;
That early impress still he wore,
And I could change it never more.
(Author Unknown)
- See more at: http://www.rayfowler.org/2009/05/08/a-piece-of-plastic-clay-a-poem-for-mothers-day/#sthash.R3woDXYr.dpuf

I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it one day,
And as my fingers pressed it still,
It moved and yielded at my will.
I came again when days were past;
The bit of clay was hard at last,
The form I gave it still it bore,
But I could change that form no more.
I took a piece of living clay,
And gently formed it day by day,
And molded with my power and art
A young child’s soft and yielding heart.
I came again when days were gone;
It was a man I looked upon;
That early impress still he wore,
And I could change it never more.
(Author Unknown)
- See more at: http://www.rayfowler.org/2009/05/08/a-piece-of-plastic-clay-a-poem-for-mothers-day/#sthash.R3woDXYr.dpuf

I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it one day,
And as my fingers pressed it still,
It moved and yielded at my will.
I came again when days were past;
The bit of clay was hard at last,
The form I gave it still it bore,
But I could change that form no more.
I took a piece of living clay,
And gently formed it day by day,
And molded with my power and art
A young child’s soft and yielding heart.
I came again when days were gone;
It was a man I looked upon;
That early impress still he wore,
And I could change it never more.
(Author Unknown)
- See more at: http://www.rayfowler.org/2009/05/08/a-piece-of-plastic-clay-a-poem-for-mothers-day/#sthash.R3woDXYr.dpuf

I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it one day,
And as my fingers pressed it still,
It moved and yielded at my will.
I came again when days were past;
The bit of clay was hard at last,
The form I gave it still it bore,
But I could change that form no more.
I took a piece of living clay,
And gently formed it day by day,
And molded with my power and art
A young child’s soft and yielding heart.
I came again when days were gone;
It was a man I looked upon;
That early impress still he wore,
And I could change it never more.
(Author Unknown)
- See more at: http://www.rayfowler.org/2009/05/08/a-piece-of-plastic-clay-a-poem-for-mothers-day/#sthash.R3woDXYr.dpuf

I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it one day,
And as my fingers pressed it still,
It moved and yielded at my will.
I came again when days were past;
The bit of clay was hard at last,
The form I gave it still it bore,
But I could change that form no more.
I took a piece of living clay,
And gently formed it day by day,
And molded with my power and art
A young child’s soft and yielding heart.
I came again when days were gone;
It was a man I looked upon;
That early impress still he wore,
And I could change it never more.
(Author Unknown)
- See more at: http://www.rayfowler.org/2009/05/08/a-piece-of-plastic-clay-a-poem-for-mothers-day/#sthash.R3woDXYr.dpuf

I took a piece of plastic clay
And idly fashioned it one day,
And as my fingers pressed it still,
It moved and yielded at my will.
I came again when days were past;
The bit of clay was hard at last,
The form I gave it still it bore,
But I could change that form no more.
I took a piece of living clay,
And gently formed it day by day,
And molded with my power and art
A young child’s soft and yielding heart.
I came again when days were gone;
It was a man I looked upon;
That early impress still he wore,
And I could change it never more.
(Author Unknown)
- See more at: http://www.rayfowler.org/2009/05/08/a-piece-of-plastic-clay-a-poem-for-mothers-day/#sthash.R3woDXYr.dpuf

The Inhuman Act in the name of Almighty!

The Inhuman Act in the name of Almighty!

Alas! I lost my Dad....

At 6.00 am I woke up in the Tirunelveli Medical College Hospital on 18th April 2014 amid of few patients who were in the emergency ward needing constant care. 

My Dad, a retired Teacher who had been admitted in the hospital for bone fracture and had the operation few days before, was back from the Ortho ward, back to emergency for breathing difficulty and chest congestion. He could not take anything orally and was in Intra Venous Fluid (Glucose) since two days. However he was responding to my voice and care as I had been dressing him up and trying to feed him fluids, orally. The previous night he had 'Sukku Coffee' and was better. I had consulted the doctor on his status and was confident that he would soon take food orally. With that confidence I had my nap, the previous night.

Around 7.00 am I had finished cleaning and dressing him up. With the voluntary help of two women who were attending to their relatives in the next beds, either side, I tried to raise my Dad and feed him with milk and tablets. To my surprise he could swallow the milk and the tablets. I was gaining hope that soon he would start eating. But to my shock, when I let him lie in the bed, he breathe his last. The eyes were closing and neck falling. I am stuck. Could not cry.  Screamed at the nurse for calling the Doctor. I tried to pump his heart with hand strokes, but in vain. Doctors rushed in, asking me to vacate the place for some time and covered the bed with screen and emerged out after 10 min, to declare me that he is dead. 

ID Sir is DEAD!

My literal Death!

I had to call our relatives and friends after informing my family. I had no courage, rather worried, to let my Mother know this message. So informed Ms.Rajalakshmi (my friend) who had been caring my Parents, especially my beloved Dad, more than her father. To her I disclosed the demise of my Dad and she had to manage bringing my Mom to Tirunelveli from our home at Ammanpuram, which is in Tiruchendur Taluk, about 50 Km away from the High Ground Hospital (Tirunelveli). 

18 - 19 - 20 March 2014 Days for the Deity

Three days 'Kumbabishekam' function began with 'Ganapathi Homum'. Mother and Raji were in the temple, when I called to convey the demise of my Dad. The next call was to my relative who played a role in the temple festival. I asked him not to inform anything about my Dad's demise, but to send my Mom quickly to hospital. He honored that. However, next calls from him were shocking. He asked me not to bring my Dad to home and gave me options saying that it is the decision of the temple committee/elders. 

The options were:

" To bribe and keep Dad at the Govt Hospital or Mortuary itself for 3 days 
or
to keep in ice-box and in some private hospital or room or home for 3 days
or
to cremate immediately in the electric crematorium at Tirunelveli itself "

I was shattered at these uttering and categorically stated that he will be brought to my home and that would be my Mom's wish too. My Dad also wished that same log before. 

As soon as my Mom reached Hospital, around 8.50 am, we started last journey with my Dad to my village in the Govt Vehicle. Not to be on the way of temple function, which is right before my home, we moved straight to the pump house in the garden and lied him on a cot. We did not want the Temple function to be stopped, not my Dad would wish. None from the village came to receive or see my Dad. Rather, a sanction has been whipped against those who would be going for the funeral, 'the unquoted verdict' by so called 'elders of the village'. Very few men and women defied the whip in the name of God to pay their respects at the burial.  We used to cremate, but were told that even the 'Vettiyan' who does it will not turn up and we had no other option but to bury him in our garden itself. An ultimatum was set by the 'elders' to complete the process before 5 pm. Family members from my Mom's side were communicating the decision by the 'elders' to me and forcing us to complete everything before my daughter (grand child whom my dad is fond of) arrived, the next day. We were under pressure in the name of the God, to dig up the earth on haste and bury him before the dusk.

That night none stayed with us. My self, my friend Raji and Mother, all three were alone on the death night. 

How should we react?

                                                      Against whom?

                                                                                                  Is God really there?

......even tears fail to roll out!

The Departed Soul...

 

Iyyemperumal Diraviyam 

(S/o Sri.Iyyemperumal Konar & Smt.Gomathy Ammal,  

1/167, Pillaiyar Kovil Street, Ammanpuram - 628201)

(Popularly known as

 ID Sir among the Teacher-Student community and as

 Natesan in the family circle)

Born:  20.12.1945                                                                                                   Departed: 18.03.2014

ID Sir has passed away leaving us in deep sorrow. He was suffering out of deteriorating health. Recently he was admitted in the Tirunelveli Medical College Hospital at High Ground, Palayamkottai, Tirunelveli for a bone fracture. Though the operation was successful, his other health issues Parkinson's Disease, Dementia, and Diabetes resulted in metabolic decline. Chest congestion added to breathing difficulty and he breath his last in my hands at 7.30 am in the hospital.

Avinaash alias Ramakrishnan 

(Younger Son of ID Sir)