Walking past the gates of Earth;
he is asked, whom do you reckon
made you such a learned man?
The learned man replied,
‘That was my teacher, the teacher
who held my hand through the
mist of this dark and uncanny world.
He taught me the way to write;
The way to perform in a mind’s fight.
He was my teacher,
Who made me such a preacher
He bestowed upon me the rocks,
he collected from his own.
I passed them on;
To children my own.
Hadn’t I passed them on,
they would’ve fell off the realm.
My teacher helped me hone,
the skills of my own.
As the wind moves the chime;
The rocks shall be passed on
Till the end of time.
~Tuhin Choudhury