Who is the real teacher

This poem is dedicated to my son Shubham. He reverses the way I see parenting. I see that the children are great teachers. They take us back to childhood and urge us to shed off our self importance and ego. They truly teach us importance of love. They teach us how to love without a reason, without expectation

I am confused
who teaches whom?
On one hand, I stand
with 'worldly wisdom'
with the 'harsh' realities
of this violent world
On the other hand
is my son
Still pure
Untainted
Free
Innocent
Full of trust
Love
Devoid of scepticism
Without pretence
Without 'ego'

I pretend to be teacher
To teach him
What is bad?
And what is good
I answer his endless
Questions of 'what is that'
He never asks 'why'
Coz, his world is still free of logic
And reason
It’s all about emotions
Instinct
Sixth Sense
He is still close
To divine
Close to earth
He is still grounded

So, who will teach whom
I wonder
Who is the real teacher?
Me, being so disillusioned
By the world
Me, so lacking trust
Me, so full of 'ego'
And self importance
Or you still pure
Untarnished
Unblemished by the cruel ways of world.

When you smile
It comes within
It is not stuck in between lips
Just to show
You do not expect anything in return
when you hug me
You still live in happy world of imagination
Where elephants fly
Lions speak
Full of Chocolates
And Fairies
Sometimes, demons lurk in between
There are 'bad men' too
You know that
But you believe that good always wins

Perhaps we both come halfway
And teach each other
You will learn some harsh realities
I know
But yet never forget the
World of dreams and imagination
You teach me how to smile
straight from heart
To shed off my ‘ego’
And most important of all
To love without expectation