The so-called Nation Builders are often dismissed as insignificant cogs in the social machinery. Sadly, people in the profession of teaching are so cowed down by Power Play, that they bring down their self-respect and personal dignity to the bottom of the well. A place, from where all gossip, whimpers of complain and helpless wringing of hands are neither seen nor heard. My take on the perceived worth of an Teacher in a "touted" Democracy.


Who is She? , asked the Leader.

You ask them, "who is she",
Well, I'm also trying to know,
She seems to be a slave,
as things appear to be;
She used to be an angel,
My Lord Your Majesty,
till she entered the Elysium,
of glorified Anarchy;
With tired wings of Truth,
she managed to postpone,
the comatose state of Righteous,
the grand death of Democracy.
You ask "who is she? "
She's a superhero fiend, a martyr, a nobody; She tows the voice of reason-        
She's a "Teacher!” Oh hell, what adversity!  
         
You only mock her presence,
You do not wish to see,
She's driven by rare virtues,
Yes, she's living testimony!
Your words continue to singe,
Your manner is in want,
Your blindness takes you nowhere,
You only hear the chant,
Of a glorified ego,
ballooned by sylph-like goons,
You cannot think what's right
in plush, narcotic lagoons.
You ask " Who is she", -
She's the dying torch of Change,
chained to the stone of Excellence,
in the cave of Anonymity.
You question "who is she?"
She's an impassioned teacher,
tryin' to Walk-the-Talk,
a Wonder in the Dark...
She's what YOU used to be.

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