My Alma-mater

 

 

My Alma-mater

 

On her centenary celebration,

a unique and glorious occasion

with gratitude and love that in me, harbor

pay I, my oblations to my Alma-mater

lying prostrate in front of her benign mansion

kissing the path, her numerous alumni have trodden

divinized by the feet -dusts of teachers over the century

enlightening her alumni and equipping them to parry.

the tussles of life with morale soaring high

never succumbing to immorality till they sigh.

Now in my twilight days

in me  blaze

the days at my Alma mater

with a plethora of treasures to  ponder

looted by time, the cruel crusader

but inscribing the events in my heart’s corridor

where fell on me  the introductory rays of  wisdom

pervaded behind and beyond the curriculum

In the early sixties of the twentieth century

moved I to semi-urban magic from rural glory

Angul High School became my Alma-mater

With pride and privilege, I stay her alumnus forever

Considered then as Angul’s prestigious crown

located was she, in the heart of the town

adjacent to Ma Budhithakurani’s shrine on a hillock

and a lovely orange orchard, now highly, people talk

close to her exists a cluster of ponds with  nurtured fishes

and a park and a field for good health, one cherishes

Thus, Herr Alumni grew amidst the forestry wealth

developing urges to safeguard environmental health

My Alma mater is at the center of the state

The main highway touches her main gate

a unique position for her, claiming special stature.

Lucky I am, as on her lap I got such exposure.

From every glass blade on her playground

to  the school bell with its mystical sound

tuning in us at times, pleasure at times, pains

from the patting  of class teachers to their anger and canes

from the worries of examinations and on them the apprehensions

to the relief of their burdens on the following vacations

I reminisce with thrills and joy, revering all

animate and inanimate entities, such as boards on the wall

that display the names of past alumni meritorious

who brought fame to Alma-mater with deeds, glorious

awakening in me the carvings to emulate their deeds

bringing laurels to my Alma mater, which she needs

With fun, I look at the cheating in the examination

that hoodwinks the eyes of strict teachers on invigilation

scribblings on blotting paper not visible to the elderly eye

to notes at the toilet seat and minute writings on the thigh

copying from mates at the back  and sides, left and right

keeping the deeds hidden from the invigilators’ sight

for such  deeds, the artistry and hard work behind

reveal their grit and talents, at which teachers whined

Strict, fearsome, and merciless to students, errant

Jagdananda Sir was then the hostel superintendent

Boarders, some manage to escape from his sight

to witness at Shankar cinema hall shows, night

disjointing some rods in the grills of the window

crafted by predecessors in a way, hard to know

to deceive the superintendent during his night inspections

pillows, bed sheets, under a mosquito net, aiding their missions

of course, being sure of roommates’ protections

with sumptuous tiffin and sweets as temptations

Once, Bimba was caught by the superintendent’s trap

His punishments vibrate in me after a six-decade gap

Shankar cinema hall, the only cinema hall, had a roof of asbestos sheets

At the front lay the mats, and at the back, wooden benches for classes, elites.

Some, in classes, read detective and novels, hot

Because of their tricks, hardly, they were caught.

Still, teachers and our Alma mater

even on such errant students shower

their undiminished graces and blessings

forgiving and forgetting their wrongdoings.

In games, sports, athletics, and also in oratory

at the state level, our participation brought her glory

To the seniors, peers, and junior students

instantly become heroes, the participants

Girls were few, even though the school permitted coeducation

remained they aloof, unlike girls now found in common

But to adolescent teenagers

spicy stories on them, spread the rumor mongers.

Despise such backbiting

laurels to Alma0maer, they bring

and with stainless characters

They lived as institute’s torch bearers.

Gauge I now their superiority

over the male students' community.

Married, they, to spouses, much older

but equally mature and wise to shoulder

as an equal partner to row their family through

to their potentialities, now I bow.

Niharika is the magazine of the school

to explore the literary talents, a novel tool

students vie to see their articles published

thereby, the literary quest in them got nourished

On sacred festive occasions

for Lord Ganesh and Ma Saraswati, the  propitiations

We promise to emulate the elders’ devotion

by fasting for some durations

But invariably failed, we

when street vendors, we see

After committing the omissions

pray we Lords' benediction.

Feel I often experience the thrills of recess break

relieving us from the tensions that long sessions make

with complex mathematics and tough English

coupled with teachers’ anger, aiding a student’s anguish

Spicy gossip, maddening outbursts, venting the tensions out

refreshing all of us for the next sessions to bout

At times, with  games of volleyball and kabaddi, we sweat

reminiscing the time and the then feelings, the pleasure I get

After school hours, we run back home

So that, for games in the school field quickly come.

Crush, I, my memory

and the time for its robbery

as I do not remember

the names and frames of every teacher

Who shaped me to face

the life with grace

but remember, I with gratitude

in its highest magnitude

to revered teachers, some

to students' hearts who could fathom

Here, their names I dwell

as for being their students, our hearts swell

Surendranath, ,Brindaban Premananda

Biswanath Chandidebabrata  Jagatananda

Dinabandh Raghunath, Achyutananda

Prafulla, Purna, Rajguruu, Hurdananda

Ptanabandhu Bhramarbara, Nilamani

Padmachaean Hursikeshh, Chandramani

Dasgupta, Manik, Hatta, and Rajkishore

till our last sighs, they will occupy our hearts’ core

led them, two laudable, lovable leaders

during my stay at my Alma mater

Kanhu sir was the Headmaster

on his transfer

came Prafulla Das, sir, as he next leader

Their managerial styles differed a lot

to us, on man management, the lessons it taught

Kanhu Sir appeared tough in frame.

We used to run away listening to his name.

But Prafulla sir was simple. approachable and mild

but for wrongdoings with canes, he becomes wild.

All of my teachers and two head sirs as their leaders

as Gurus in the Hindu philosophy, my heart harbors.

The school peon Narahari deserves gratitude from the students

for his commitments to his duty and to protect them from punishments

To ISCON, Manik sir’s contribution is enormous

His statue as Gouragovnda Swamy glitters in ISCON campus

Hey, my Alma mater, our adorable mother,

also over these hundred years, her every teacher!

Though we could not become Einstein or Shakespeare

But keeping your flags high, we served humanity, being honest and sincere.

In the growing industrial hubs around

In your students, their builders they found

Aluminum, coal power, and the steel sector

that enabled the state of Orissa to prosper

found in your alumni, their captains and crew

with their acumen and dedication, true

those could build and row.

That with humility to you, we show.

 

P K Routray, 1964 batch

In the service of the Lord

My Aklma mater, Angul High School in Orissa, was edstasblished in 1925.  I was her Alumnus as I studied there from 1962 to 1964. This poem is my tribute to her.