When I chose to present Lolita, in the Modern Fiction class,
Most were left aghast, as the topic seemed crass.
Appreciating my analysis, I remember what you said next,
'If I was a little more braver, that would be my primary text'.
Modern Indian Fiction in Translation, the other course I took,
Exposed me to 'The Home and The World', a bible more than a book.
The Rashomon style of narration, influenced my novella's form,
As the butterfly flapped its wings, I could find my voice, in the storm.
My sonnets followed an archaic pattern, but you never looked down,
On my attempts to redefine modernity, you did not frown.
You encouraged me to read poems, from other modern poets too,
To see whats going on in the mehfil, and not be left without a clue.
I might not be a poet, just because of you, your influence might have been fleeing,
But you have achieved a more stellar feat- you've made me a sensitive, human being.
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