Mrs. Chowdhury

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 that we won.
I remember the 
old smoke stained bricks
of the inner city school.
I remember it in sepia 
It had no colors back then.
Nothing did.

Until she came to teach us.
She was beautiful her silks
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 seen
since the war had ended.

She said she was from India.
And her dress was a sari.
She had 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?
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 said.

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.
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 .?

To the teachers of the Young
Thank You
Jude