Poem By Sivaprasad Parackal
Somersaulting in the fields, he lived in the woods.
Looking at the twinkling stars, he lay on the dung smeared floor.
Bearing plantain umbrella, he went out in the rain to school.
Greeting tadpoles, fishing trouts, launching colocasia boats, he knew mother Nature.
With empty stomach, he learned the two arts from the revered ones.
He saw, heard, smelt, tasted and felt with those who had no tags then.
He was a mere man's kid among men's kids who never asked each one's origin.
From that eternal shrine, he learned the first lessons of love and care.
Now that he is settled and successful in life.
He finds himself refined and urbanised.
Realisation strikes him, "I was an uncouth idiot then! ".
And he vows to raise his dear ones in the new world keeping them aloof from the country's distractions.
To his great relief, woods, pastures and streams have disappeared.
Paddy fields are buried in oblivion.
The only thing that drags him to the unpleasant days is his alma mater.
The deteriorated, fern laden building still exists lighting the lamps of knowledge to the uncouth ones.
So wise he is, makes his kids cozy in the refined house of knowledge imbibing the language and manners of the Angles.
"Thank God! They escape from my damned days and manners.
Yet you say I am denying the little ones the virtues of the past and warmth of harmony?
After all, what do you expect me to do? Send my kids to the world of primitiveness to learn the archaic things? "