"Aaaachooo...", sneezed Mr. Dayal as he cleared off the dust from the shelves.Since the past twenty minutes he had been searching for a book. At the age of 65, with rickety eyesight, his love for books had not receded. A devoted reader since childhood, he never had too many friends but he never complained because he never bothered. After all with books around he needed nothing else. His passion for reading reflected from the colossal library that he owned, with books garnered from all genres. 'religious, philosophical, fiction...'.He was proud to own them all. Every day after lunch, he spent some solitary time in the library,deftly arranged with his all time favourite classics. But this day it seemed as if he was frantically searching for some special piece of literature. Something that was related to the days of his struggle, something that reminded him of his favourite teacher Mr. Krishnamachari

"Ahh..there it is.." said a relieved Mr. Dayal as he found an old edition of Panchtantra gifted to him by Krishnamachari  when he was about to graduate from college. He had laughed at the unusual present and said,"but Sir....Panchtantra is meant for children.." at which Krishnamachari had smirked and said, "and Dayal you are no less than my son...Panchtantra is ageless....it taught me various morals of life ...it guided me through the darkest hours...it helped me to abseil when i could have fallen flat on the face so I gift it to you. But you are prohibited to read the last four pages. You can read them after a while though. Maybe when you've graduated from college." This unusual condition had left Dayal bewildered but he finally acceded to his teacher's request. 

Back at the hostel, Dayal had to suffer the ignominy of being presented with Panchtantra and that too by his favourite teacher. His friends ridiculed him and showered him with pejorative comments. Dayal was too vexed with Mr. Krishnamachari for presenting him with an immature gift. With college days near an end, everyone including Dayal had anticipated something huge from professor Krishnamachari. Whenever Dayal topped his semesters, professor used to willingly hand him a five hundred rupee note and say," Dayal, this is your hard earned money, this is my reward for your sweat. Now go and give a lavish party to your friends. Enjoy my son.." This loving gesture from Krishnamachari was no less than a veneration for Dayal. After all he was one of the most esteemed professors of the university. But this time at the farewell when Krishnamachari departed from Dayal, presenting him with nothing but an old children classic, Dayal's expectations were shattered. He could neither complain nor accept the present so he kept mum. Since the farewell everyone had observed a sudden  change in Dayal's attitude towards professor Krishnamachari. He no longer answered questions in Krishnamachari's class neither did he initiate to attend to professor's small errands. The professor too had smelled a rat. He even tried probing into the matter but Dayal escaped him by making excuses. Professor Krishnamachari was disappointed but this hardly affected the love that he bore for Dayal. On the last day of college, he went to every faculty member to formally say goodbye. He saw Mr. Krishnamachari seated in his chamber, but didn't bother to meet him before leaving for home.

After college, Dayal qualified for a post in bank. He started earning a decent living and soon got married. With too many responsibilities looming over his head, he hardly ever got time for himself. Sometimes he missed the long hours of brooding and pouring through the pages of his books. There were days when he used to badly miss the innocent college days when all one had to do was study and attain marks, when there was plenty of time for everything but now it seemed as if time was never enough. Sometimes random vague memories of his favourite teacher Mr. Krishnamachari crossed his mind, of how he loved him selflessly, of how he praised him for his intelligence and dedication. But then as soon as the parting gift of Panchtantra flashed in his mind, annoyance would flow through him. "It served him right..I did the right thing by leaving without meeting him."..Dayal thought to himself. Once when he saw the book in his library he was reminded of the last four pages that his professor had refrained him from reading but thinking that a book of old classic tales was completely useless for him he neglected it.

As time passed by, Dayal became engrossed in the worldly matters. He had too many important affairs to handle. His son's education, daughter's marriage seemed to be the only objectives in his life. Sometimes he told his son about his inspirational life story, about how a professor in college encouraged him omitting the part of panchtantra book as he was ashamed of it and feared that his son might also ridicule him. Even his wife was not aware of this fact. It was something that Dayal had concealed from everyone. Time went by and Dayal successfully discharged his duties as a father . His children were settled abroad. He had retired from the bank and now he and his wife lived in a house that was away from the din of the city. Now was the time when he could rejoice the reunion with his old friends, his books. And so everyday after lunch he would spend hours in the library.

Today also Mr. Dayal entered the library but the familiar expression of happiness was absconding from his face. Today after a long time he had called his favourite teacher Mr. Krishnamachari. A young lady spoke on the phone.." Ahh! yes Mr. Dayal. I know you. My grandfather never stopped praising you. He could go on and on for hours. He was very fond of you...even in his last days he didn't forget to mention your name. He tried to say something about panchtantra...but before he could make sense we lost him.."...Mr. Dayal was anguished to listen of the demise of his professor. Tears rolled down his cheeks. The tender look in his eyes, the warmth of his words...everything started coming back to Mr. Dayal. He immediately rushed to his library and vehemently shuffled the books on the shelves to find the same old panchtantra that he had once neglected. When he found it he went past through the entire book. He was familiar with all the tales in the book. He was frantically turning over the pages when he reached the end of the book. Four pages were stuck at the end. It seemed that something was scribbled on it. He tried to read it. It was another tale of a boy who was hardworking, who was always into the books, who could move mountains with his sheer dedication and hard work. The three page story sounded more like his own real life story. There was a note at the end. By now Mr. Dayal had realized that it was in his teacher's handwriting. It said..." My boy, I told you how every tale of Panchtantra taught me something, how it was an inspiration for me, how it laid the foundation of my morals. Every story, every character had a lesson to convey and so do you. I learnt from you how with sheer dedication one can attain his/her goal  irrespective of the numerous hurdles in the way. So to me your life is no less than the heroic tale of any Panchtantra character. You are my inspiration so your true place is amidst this classic tale for children. A three page story on your life is stuck  at the end of the book to honour you as one of my panchtantra heroes. I hope you will love my parting gift..." Mr. Dayal  froze to the core. He was not only abashed  of himself but also pitied his thoughts. This surely was the best parting gift that anyone could ever think of, but only it was too late to realize. The farewell parting present had now become the final parting present from his teacher Mr. Krishnamachari......