Bend the twigs, they will easily bend; No blow, no tool, no rule, they will easily bend. Use I not force, my frowns well correct them; Their pains yet I bear, and they grow on my own stem. I stress not them, nor hound to grow them right; I just grow me to take them up and raise their height. I sulk when they break laws, when they tell lies; Then they apologise, as tears flow from my eyes. We are bound in love, and I've banished the rod; When they get goodness of knowledge, I get my God. I walk with them for their fame in sun and rain; Whenever they stoop, I tell a joke and they walk again. Ever am I bonded to them by genuine piety; And in my students is my life, soul and gaiety. by N P Samal Asst. Professor, IGIPS, Bhubaneswar