Teacher’s Lament by Sushant Kumar B.K.

Like every teacher,

I believed

The school was a second home.

Now, echoes different 

Authorities don’t carry kinship.

Their conservations begin

and end with

Deadlines and demands.

Call it a second home?

A firm No,

 There is no such voice to say

“Rest a while; you look tired.”

As parents say at home.

What an injustice!

Even the dictionary defines us

“A person whose job is teaching,

especially in a school.”

An incomplete definition, indeed

Cause almost every evening,

I carry home: notebooks and

Unfinished assignments.

Our living rooms are classrooms

The bizarre, there is no bell ring.

We also have a fading reverence.

Once, parents spoke, teachers as lamps,

But now, their careless remarks

Withers' respect towards teachers.

We are beyond time and timetable,

Our care is beyond the curriculum,

So, I hope, someday,

People truly reflect us as

Architecture of life…

BIO OF THE POET:

Sushant Kumar B.K. is a Nepali poet, translator, educator, freelance writer, and published author from Gulariya, Bardiya, Nepal. He is the author of the poetry collection The Caste of Flowers and has co-authored three international poetry anthologies: Pandemic Poetry 2020, HYPERPOEM, and Duets of Plural Duelers. His poems have appeared in national and international anthologies, magazines, newspapers, and online literary platforms. He holds master's degrees in English Literature and Political Science.