Reading Time: 2 minutes
The poem, by Dr. Roopali, is about the relationship of the teacher and the taught. A Special Feature, on the eve of the Teachers’ Day, exclusively for Different Truths.
Five thousand years ago, in ancient India, in the epic times of the Mahabharata, there lived in the forest a hunter called Ekalavya son of chief Hiranadhanyu of the Nishad tribe. “Father give me your blessings I wish to learn from the wise Guru Dronacharya to be a warrior, a perfect archer.” The wise father could not say no and let his brave son go knowing he will face rejection and humiliation. Yet not wishing to come in the way of a son’s decision To learn skills of war with precision. Ace archer and teacher, Guru of kings and princes Dronacharya arrogance turned away Eklavya denying him his knowledge and wisdom calling him a low born without a kingdom who had dared enter the princely arena, to learn to be equal with the great Pandava Arjuna. Rejected yet undeterred, sharp as the arrow and strong as the bow Eklavya built a clay figure of the Guru to practice his dharma to fulfill his karma Arduous years later Eklavya excelled the prize archer prince Arjuna the learned Teacher demanded to know from whence for a young Nishad did knowledge of archery flow? You cannot be a warrior your birth is so low! With folded hands him did a humble Eklavya greet and the bow and arrow he laid at his teacher’s feet. “I learnt from you, my Guru I have only this to show Of no other great teacher do I know.” The angry proud teacher said you have learnt from me, Now give me your right thumb as Guru Dakshina, My Fee. The stunned princely learners watched in horror, as the son of a hunter, the super archer cut his own thumb to offer the Guru a gift of supreme gratitude for his chance to hone his aptitude. Thus, the great teacher and archer Dronacharya disabled his supreme shishya Eklavya. Five thousand years later I stepped into the sacred space of my classroom and saw in the lone corner, an eager bright curious face, looking at me with hope, his shirt faded and his shoes patched. In his dark eyes I saw reflected the deep forests, and the running deer and heard the rain clouds rumble. What is your name? I asked. In the silence of the noisy restless room I heard his quiet voice tremble. My name is Eklavya. To come to you I have travelled a long way. The sky turned blue and the sun let in a bright ray I walked across centuries to reach this young boy who had walked miles to learn, so, some day he could earn. I put my hand on his head and whispered, “Ekalavya, I am here you must never fear.”
Poet’s Note: An arrogant teacher /guru, who disables his student, is biased, and denies his student the right to learn. He has no honourable place. There are three characters in this story: Eklavya, Dronacharya and a teacher today, who is a mentor.
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