While preparing myself for the visit of Academic and Administrative Committee, which is prelude to the proposed NAAC committee visit in August 2010 , I was putting some order in my disorderly files . At that time I stumbled up on a letter dated March 14th 2003 written by one Central University Professor . Exerpts from that letter.
“It is difficult for a genuine academician to face the ugly realities of life, family and work place especially when the time is unfavourable.You are now in that phase. But the present phase ( for that matter any phase) is unlikely to remain permanent. Soon relief will come. You will once again enjoy reading your subject in peace. Amanullah will give you company. Please guide him to do further work in financial economics by collaborating with him.”
That was a time when I was falling into a tails pin of a mild recession as I was denied my legitimate promotion to the next cadre, ‘Professor’. By sheer manipulative politics, I was made to fall and fail. Despite all my academic credentials and serious publications having contemporary national and international relevance, I was denied my due. However this did not propel me to loose faith in the goodness of the universe and I wrote more poems on the crisis of leadership at the top. Indeed long before that I had given sufficient vent to my societal concern in free verse. I don’t know where all those emotive feelings clothed in poetic prose are scattered and bundled. I have already given the title to the collection of those poems and written introduction . That silent soliloquy on Campus Politics; Wild Tigers cannot be caged. Will come after a lagged time interval decided by the supreme.
That professor’s letter gave me consolation and some relief. Why that letter affected me today is that ,Prof.Amanullah is not with us today. An ardent disciple of that professor and also my affectionate son like friend has been now dissolved now into the cosmos, never to return and see our faces. Many weeks after his demise, I wrote a few lines in my dairy which I shall post in the subsequent few weeks .A re-reading of a old letter written by a scholar rekindled my old memories about a academic injury inflicted into my heart, which opened a new vista of poetry in me and also to think about a good soul namely Amanullah.
“It is difficult for a genuine academician to face the ugly realities of life, family and work place especially when the time is unfavourable.You are now in that phase. But the present phase ( for that matter any phase) is unlikely to remain permanent. Soon relief will come. You will once again enjoy reading your subject in peace. Amanullah will give you company. Please guide him to do further work in financial economics by collaborating with him.”
That was a time when I was falling into a tails pin of a mild recession as I was denied my legitimate promotion to the next cadre, ‘Professor’. By sheer manipulative politics, I was made to fall and fail. Despite all my academic credentials and serious publications having contemporary national and international relevance, I was denied my due. However this did not propel me to loose faith in the goodness of the universe and I wrote more poems on the crisis of leadership at the top. Indeed long before that I had given sufficient vent to my societal concern in free verse. I don’t know where all those emotive feelings clothed in poetic prose are scattered and bundled. I have already given the title to the collection of those poems and written introduction . That silent soliloquy on Campus Politics; Wild Tigers cannot be caged. Will come after a lagged time interval decided by the supreme.
That professor’s letter gave me consolation and some relief. Why that letter affected me today is that ,Prof.Amanullah is not with us today. An ardent disciple of that professor and also my affectionate son like friend has been now dissolved now into the cosmos, never to return and see our faces. Many weeks after his demise, I wrote a few lines in my dairy which I shall post in the subsequent few weeks .A re-reading of a old letter written by a scholar rekindled my old memories about a academic injury inflicted into my heart, which opened a new vista of poetry in me and also to think about a good soul namely Amanullah.
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