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SONG OF A SOLITARY TEACHER

O Divine Qr. NO. P-VII/10,
The serene and sacred seat!
I prostrate before you.
So grand! So splendid! So heavenly!
Was your state, strategy and stature.
And so saintly, so motherly, so queenly
Was your look, love, compassion and generosity.
When I was homeless at the Himalayan Chukha,
You sheltered, nurtured and nourished me
Like a mother does for her newly born baby.

Though you are called a house,
To me you were a lap of love and grace
Where I was blessed to be seated
To enjoy many ecstatic experiences.

Five years of my life in your lofty lap
Was a period of fullness, highness and holiness.
I gratefully acknowledge, O Divine house,
I am rebuilt in the shower of your blessings.

You, the supreme abode dawned my day:
Every morning at three and dipped me
Into the elixir of Tagore’s holy Gitanjali.
I chanted the divine songs loudly and slowly
Impregnating the virgin hours and air with divinity
For health and happiness, peace and prosperity
Protection and purity of the entire humanity.

O my treasure house! If I were a swallow,
When there would be no rules to follow,
I would quietly fly to the Chukha sky
And descend on the green roof
Of your mysterious seat every dawn and evening
Which no one would forbid, notice and know.  

Thus in ecstasy, like a mystic, I would savour the ethereal view:
The kingly sun kissing the snow-capped mountains
And the Queenly celestial eyes and illuminating face;
The high born Wangchhu’s vigorous dance and melody;
The Zangthopelri’s  breath-taking and soul lifting majesty;
My Little Buddhas with their books and bags
Waving their holy hands and casting heavenly glance
From the school bus that runs past the house.
The enchanting vast view as if from a Dover Beach
Which made my life with my wife high and rich.
At dawn and dusk mother wind’s soft and serene touch;
The fresh and pristine sun - the morning crown
And all the rest of the supreme scenes and sights
That Lord has given to Chukha dreamland.

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