Young voices shall never die
“It is a very long story, son!” Master frowned. “But if you’re
confident that time won’t cost you very much, I shall tell you...”
“Sure, master.” Disciple smiled.
“He was a very outspoken person. He hardly kept anything away from me
which he believed I’d learn a lesson from. This quality remained with
him to his very last moment.” Master paused. “I remember how we watched
Dead Poets Society together. He just told me ‘You also try different
methods of teaching. They’ve worked for John Keating....’ I just
nodded.”
“I’ve also watched ‘Dead Poets Society’, master.” Disciple thrust
himself in soon as master stopped to catch his breath. “It was pretty
different and thought-provoking. I learned a lot.”
“Oh, really? I didn’t know that.” Someone patted disciple’s shoulder
from behind. Master was apparently quite unnerved by the intruder’s
voice so youthful, so vigorous.
It was Neil, they eventually realized, the one in Dead Poets Society
the movie. The boy believed death was better than conformity. Who
committed a protesting suicide. Whose death changed the lives of many
around him for ever!
“Mr. Keating used to tell us about you…” Neil was recalling, “I still
remember him say ‘if you like my style of teaching, then you’ll like
Master a lot better.’”
Master looked at Neil for sometime. “He is a pathfinder, Neil. I
haven’t met him for ages. Any idea where he should be staying now?”
Neil was silent. They all were, in fact.
“They haven’t dumped him, Neil.” Disciple patted his back, “just
because that old hat principal fired him.”
Neil was still silent. Master and disciple could see him silently
sobbing.
“Ah,” disciple was at sea what to say, “errr.. actually your
premature suicide shocked all your pals. A lot of things happened after
that, you know. Lot of things. Someone gave away the ‘Society’ and your
friends were forced to admit Professor Keating was responsible for what
you all turned out to be.”
Disciple paused. Everything was silent, but he could say Neil was
giving him uninterrupted attention.
“I don’t think you guys are at fault,” disciple went on, “Anyway the
old hat ordered professor to leave immediately. So when he came back to
fetch some of his things, the old hat was teaching the class. “
“Oh my god!” That was Neil speaking up suddenly. Disciple happily
smiled and carried on.
“Funny enough the old fellow had to eat his hat.”
“Why what happened?” Neil was impatient.
“Todd stood up suddenly and called the professor. But he had to give
in because of the principal.”
Disciple paused for a while and continued.
“Yeah, it was Todd actually. The one who tried your heart out to
enroll to the ‘Dead Poets Society’. Well, he sat down only for the
moment I should say. When professor was just about to take his last step
out of the class, he climbed to his desk and...”
“Oh Todd!! Good old Todd!” Neil whispered.
“He shouted ‘O captain, my captain’ as once you were asked to climb
on his desk and see the world differently!”
Neil cast an evil smile. “What a surprise it’d have been for the
principal. But how’s Todd now?”
“He’s quite safe! Actually many guys followed suit soon after. They
stood on their desks to tribute the professor shrugging off principal’s
empty threats.”
“That’s real drama bro,” Neil mused, “and by the way how is the
‘Society’ now?”
“They are doing fine, I guess.” Master had his share of talk after
some time. “I’m sure Charlie and Knox should have influenced the
youngsters to keep the school’s secret tradition of 500 years.”
“I shall never forget the first day with him,” Neil said wistfully,
“he proved us how useless poetry introductions are, and asked us all to
rip off the introduction....”
“Perhaps I wouldn’t have done the same.” Master pondered. “I’m more
cautious than Keating. But our protest against your rote learning
education system is the same, Neil!”
“I know sir.” Neil obliged. “But still Keating’s innovations are...
really heartfelt. He’s so...” Tears filled his eyes and he had to
swallow up what he had to say.
“I must find him, master. I must do that now, right now.” Neil stood
up and threw a stone to a river flowing by.
“And may god bless you.”
Disciple was surprised and confused; he has never heard the master
bless like that. He watched Neil as he was slowly going out of sight.
Disciple looked at the lake once again. Ripples emanated from the stone
Neil shot into waters; they were still making some movements there.
Master too looked intuitively at the waters and saw the revolutionary
ripples disturbing the smug calmness of it.
‘Young voices shall never die,’ he thought he heard Keating’s voice
whispering a line of an old poem of his to his ear.
Sachitra and Samodh |
