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.

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