Wednesday, September 23, 2009

A : IN THE END IT IS PERFORMANCE THAT MATTERS..
     NOT THE LABOUR , NOT THE SWEAT ,
    NOT EVEN THE SLEEPLESS NIGHTS..
   NITHER THE FEVER , NOR THE FRET.
  NOT THE HAVOC , NOT THE WRECK,
 IN THE END IT IS PERFORMANCE THAT MATTERS..
Yesterday, I listened.
Tomorrow, I will add my voice to theirs.
Tonight, the shadow of tragedy covers my world,
and I just want to sit on the edge of eternity
and dangle my feet into its void..................

Saturday, August 22, 2009

is literature a lie????????

this is a question which often haunts me.......
i sit in the classroom studying wordsworth,admiring nature and its beauty
and what tranquility it offers me.there is a pollution awareness campaign going on outside...save trees save life.nature is no longer what it used to be.ecological balance is under threat.am i supposed to continue with wordsworth or should i go n join the awareness campaign.i sit in my bedroom in the morning reading pope's the rape of the lock..what a hurly burly over some strands of hair,the morning newspaper is handed to me and i see a woman returning from office had been gang raped...what do i do?sit in my bedroom enjoying the plight of the lock being raped or go out into the world and raise my voice against the social crime...
in a world of today,where does romanticism hold its place?isn't reading wordsworth sort of an escapism?are we not trying to create a make belief world for ourself when reality is exactly the opposite?has literature come down to the status of a lie then?
mind you, all this is coming from a person who has been a student of literature and wordsworth happens to be her favourite poet.

Monday, August 17, 2009



"LEISURE"


What is this life if, full of care,


We have no time to stand and stare.


No time to stand beneath the boughs


And stare as long as sheep or cows.


No time to see, when woods we pass,


Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.


No time to see, in broad daylight,


Streams full of stars, like skies at night.


No time to turn at Beauty's glance,


And watch her feet, how they can dance.


No time to wait till her mouth can


Enrich that smile her eyes began.


A poor life this if, full of care,


We have no time to stand and stare.




By, Wm Henry Davies.