On Hugging Teachers
How acceptable?
Would one deem it as inappropriate?
Or too affectionate?
Is it so strange
to the eyes of a floater,
foreign and detached,
to observe the familiar union between mentor and
pupil?
Do the gracious eyes
brimming with love and unspoken devotion
to success
and impression
construe a fondness
too delicate
for an outsider to fathom?
Or is this bond like a language
exclusive to learners
with bright eyes and open minds?
For those only who worship their studies
like a religion
and pledge their faith to the all-knowing
eager guide
equipped with their knowledge
and welcoming all those who crave to know
with a big heart and
open arms.
Is it not relevant
to compare a year of hand cramps,
frantic cramming,
coffee-infused veins,
and burning at both ends
to, at times,
inhaling a bitter morning breath
that sends you to your knees?
Is it not justifiable that,
after crawling on hands and bruised knees
and making it through the storm,
we find some way to mutually thank each other for bracing the ragged winds
together?
Because God knows it’s okay to be alone.
Sometimes that is the way you grow strongest.
But sometimes unity is what pulls us through;
aids us to build concrete temples
instead of cardboard forts.
Perhaps this unyielding structure
of support and creativity,
that has taken us to new heights and
pushed us past our limits,
is entitled to more than a heartfelt “thank you”.
Although necessary, it may be.
Spoken gratitude sometimes just isn’t enough
to express to our worthy consultants
how much we feel they have changed us
shaped us
nurtured us
impacted our lives.
So, is it reasonable to hug your teacher?
To me,
yes.