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Tuesday, 2 August 2016

In memory of a teacher who is nomore

Years ago,
With passion for perfection,
Patience reining supreme,
She started with four,
In the alleys of then little known,
Sapling was sown,
Nurtured ,nourished with her love and compassion,
To let it be what it is today,
A Tree,
Fruits of which are in and around,
Blooming of flowers,
Fragrance of raw taking form,
Like colours of rainbow touching horizon,
We have with us,
Fruits of her efforts,
Echoes of success,
Where ever life dwells,
Inculcating sense of pride,
She groomed many,
Working ceaselessly till her breathe ceases to be on her side,
and;When her,
Last rites were performed,
All eyes were damp,
Tears rolling,
Many gave final salute,
To a vision, which still pulsates,
Showing the way to many for all times to come,
Though not in form now,
Formless she like a breeze,
Whispers in our ears, 
melting all her love,
All walls and bells,
Temple of success,
Still sang the song of her being,
There with us forever.