Mrs Chowdury
1951
Manchester in
The North West Of England

The city was broken after the war.
England had won it was said
But it didn't feel like we won anything.
I remember the
old smoke stained bricks
of the inner city school.
I remember it in sepia
It had no bright colors back then.
Nothing did.

That is, until Mrs Chowdury came to teach us.
She was as beautiful as her silks
That flowed from her like clouds.
So many colors,reds
and magentas and pink and blues

I looked at her and
I wanted to be with her
She was the brightest thing
I had ever seen
since the war had ended.

She said she was from India.
And her dress was a sari.
She took my heart with the
gentle softness of her voice.
Her windchime bracelets
on her lovely honeyed skin tinkled.
But it was her tranquility
that floored me.

She would ask
what have you learned today children?
share it with us.
We spoke in a cacophony.
Hush now children she whispered.
listen and learn from each other.
You will all get a turn.

Then when we were troubled
she would drop an important meeting
with adult teachers.
I have an urgent need to speak
with one of my students
She would say.

I remember once
i said to her, Mrs. Chowdhury.
Why should we work so hard?
there are no jobs anymore.

She said softly but firmly
I know you all each
and every one of you.
Her sari swished even louder
I knew I had said the wrong thing.

There is a teacher,
a doctor,
a nurse,
a poet,
a craftsman,
a soccer player,
just in this class,
i can see it,
I Know this.

Then she opened
the old classroom window.
and the cool spring air
filtered into the chalky room.
The lilac perfumes drifted into the room.
From the ancient lilac tree outside.
What is that fragrance class?
It is Lilacs,
Mrs. Chowdhury,
we sang in unison.

Yes, it is lilacs children.
Last year they all died
with the winter storms.
But now they are back
as sweet as ever.

The jobs died with the war.
But they will be back.
You must all learn as much
as you can to take them.
children.
She never lost a single chance
to teach us something.

I get back to the UK
every now and then.
I am a doctor.
perhaps the one she saw
in her class so long ago.

I call in to see her
in her tiny retirement flat
in Manchester.

She pours me a cup of green tea.
Into a delicate china cup.
It is grown in the foothills
of the Himalayas
she whispers
it is picked young.
so fresh so nourishing.
Never losing her chance
to teach me something new.

Now tell me
what new things
have you learned in America.?
The ingrained love of learning
Still shining brightly
in her beautiful eyes.