The First Lesson
The first lesson in school
I got from you Mastermoshai
While practicing handwriting
By slow degrees,
I learnt: 'Always speak the truth' But on occasion during those times when
You were distracted
Under the scorching mid-day sun of Boishakh
Lost in the labyrinth of Bengali grammar
The sleepy lad has not hesitated to lie Perhaps tempted by mangoes or marbles
Fished out a few coins from his father's pocket
Yet with wet trembling fingers
Wrote out your second lesson:
'Never take what belongs to others
Without asking' In my memory that day the assailant Eklabya
In the impudence of youth swept away
One by one
The irrefutable proof of your slogans Time, now elusive and evasive,
On the warm feathers fallen from my body
Leaves its footprints
Yet, no small wonder I still am alive
Nature's melancholy joke
But I have not leave behind any writ
Nor kept any trace of my self
For those who follow later Today at this great cross-roads
Where your tattered umbrella
Is the same as the king's canopy
Here I stand hunchbacked
Praying for rebirth and pronounce
The last lesson learnt from you and you alone:
'Be good, and live for mankind!'
I got from you Mastermoshai
While practicing handwriting
By slow degrees,
I learnt: 'Always speak the truth' But on occasion during those times when
You were distracted
Under the scorching mid-day sun of Boishakh
Lost in the labyrinth of Bengali grammar
The sleepy lad has not hesitated to lie Perhaps tempted by mangoes or marbles
Fished out a few coins from his father's pocket
Yet with wet trembling fingers
Wrote out your second lesson:
'Never take what belongs to others
Without asking' In my memory that day the assailant Eklabya
In the impudence of youth swept away
One by one
The irrefutable proof of your slogans Time, now elusive and evasive,
On the warm feathers fallen from my body
Leaves its footprints
Yet, no small wonder I still am alive
Nature's melancholy joke
But I have not leave behind any writ
Nor kept any trace of my self
For those who follow later Today at this great cross-roads
Where your tattered umbrella
Is the same as the king's canopy
Here I stand hunchbacked
Praying for rebirth and pronounce
The last lesson learnt from you and you alone:
'Be good, and live for mankind!'
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