Could it ever go away from him ?
Our hostel mirrored him.
And that was its doing and undoing.
The hostel as we saw it !
That should make a good story
The hostel as we boys experienced
Was very much himself
How we relish to remember his boring talks !
How sweet his rare short talks !
How dear his hellos and scowls !
How with tact, we could play with his moods
We recall fondly how we fooled him
But he perhaps let us think we fooled him
It was fun doing things for him.
It was fun watching a line of ants carrying their eggs or grub
It was fun wearily waiting for reluctant Narikoravas to turn up.
It was fun translating something into Badaga.
It was fun because it was all for him.
And the most fun was dragging others into his deadly boringness.
It was all fun how he bored into us
Something of God, Truth and Goodness.
He bored himself into us.
We sure miss him
And hope he misses us too.
But of that we are not sure
For he will find somebody else to bore
Somewhere.
But we dare not hope to find such a bore again.
No comments:
Post a Comment