Poets'Corner. Sipra Roy
Crossing the 'Mother's Day' time reaches to Father's Day.........
....It seems I have reached on the verge of life's end . I don't have much time in my hand.I spent the last week of May in London. I visited the Poets' Corner in WestMinister Abbey first time. It is the grave yard of poets in the premise of the Church.
From Chaucer, Shakespeare Milton Marlowe , Maugham, Donne Dickens, Dickinson all are gathered there either in statue or in portrait with the possession of their tombs. Not only the poets but many other great men like Einstein ,Steven Hawkins ,great warriors have their grave yard. We the all tourists were walking on the floor that was full of marble pieces' in memory of either patriots, politicians and celebrities. It makes my mind indifferent and numb. ....I din't notice any of the tourists looking down the floor they were walking, whereas I stepped zigzag with caution to save at least each inscribed glorious name of the "past."
"Past!"
Yes, it is past.
I came outside unmindfully in the garden having smooth lawn covered by young green grass; the setting sun poured its mild rays on the grass like a soft sheet of gold; tourists scattered to and fro in the garden.
My mind was little heavy, little blank ;it would have been better if I wouldn't visit Poets'Corner. Am I shocked or shattered ? or too calm and cool to be aggrieved!
My obsession with poets' lives turned into another graveyard of my new frustration, coming to the Poets' Corner. Once again it flashes like a lightening in mind what was the value of name, fame ? In what respect life is precious if everything ends in dust?
Which is the most precious among: 'life, fame and death?'
Must be dust .
I cancelled the next program for that day and came back to rest in bed. . I started to write about "FATHERS'DAY". But I was occupied by other thought which divert me.! But I will write later.
June 21,2023
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