Well this is not in preparation, but rather as a curriculum of imagination, where every antagonistic thought begins as a rebel and ends up being a martyr.
Humanity is the top most rung of the food chain, not just because of the 5 pound lump in the temple, but because man kind has been able to decode the basic aspects of progression in systematic steps, and approached an ideological and in genuine method of passing on knowledge from generations to generations.
Literature is the projection of the human thoughts on paper, a method adopted to prevent oblivion of amenities and acumen gathered in a lifetime. Sometimes it is significant and sometimes obscure.
A world would surely be a better place without literature, for without literature there won’t be The Gita or The Koran, without literature there will be no Bible and without literature there will be no definition of God. We all be in the same place, having the same ideas and even if they are different they will die within us, finding no way to vent out.
If the legacy of learning is lost, “sapiens” will change to “Habilis” in a matter of decades, a time when only instincts will guide us, for their will be no moral or social code of conduct. They say memory is like the RAM, once you BOOT, you have lost it, but without literature it will be momentary pleasures and sadness that will prevail…
Now that is so much advantageous , no terrorism, no obscenity, no vandals, because there wont be civilization. Man kind will avail of nature , sustain for the nature, and live by nature. Pollution, Population shall all be settled. But is that why we exist. Is it just Darwin who shall guide us, is it just vision that we shall accept, or we will try for betterment.Its the vision after all that throws light upon the event.
In the bewildered thought of a literature free nation, there will be darkness , so sinister that the larger looming gloom will be hidden. Its literature that exposes the maturity of understanding life, and its curriculum.
It’s the “Diagramma” of Galileo , or the Gitanjali Of Tagore , that shows the facades of life. A world of facts, and how easily it can be proven fiction.
TELL me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream ! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.
Life is real ! Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal ;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.
Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way ;
But to act, that each to-morrow
Find us farther than to-day.
Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;
Poetry, Plays or Prose are all individuals, who live beyond time.
” Footprints left in the sands of time” , that shall be trodden by all those who trail us in existence. It’s not about rich or controversial literature , but it’s about the magnitude of the vision, that stretches not only time, but also hope. It’s because of literature that we have faith in the Almighty, its because of epics that we believe that there is a silver lining to every cloud.
The Winner Always Stands Alone, because on the top of the pyramid there is only one man, literature does not tell us how to make it to the top, but explains what happens if we do not.
It brings forth, hope, glory, glamor. It brings out emotion, panache , and peripheral existence of an obscure soul, who blinded by grief, or unconscious in drugs writes about his dreams.
Literature is the voice of the Human heart, and a cry of it’s soul, but most importantly it’s the belief of every human brain. Together a master concoction for success, and next time you wonder why it’s just literature that is so special well the thought itself will transform once again into it’s origin.
The depictions have differed with time, contemporary classics have been heralded with tinsel chiming of the modern society. The conglomeration of men and women around had a great impulse to modern facade of literature and classics are those that have been able to justify their existence in more than one variance of social port folio....Words have evolved, and life too has, upbringing had changed and so has the ways of thinking, yet the basics remain simple, and subtle....
Trust me on this fact that when Albert Einstein proved the Theory Of Relativity, he had stated that had experiments proved it wrong during and annular solar eclipse he would have felt sorry for the almighty but not change his thesis. Such is the conviction of literature. There isn’t any right or wrong, there isn’t fake or real, its ideas put forward , projected with a fury of a exuberant soul… A spontaneous overflow of powerful emotions.
We are not gifted with the power of poetry. We may find it difficult to rhyme a bee with sea, but poems will surely feature in the topmost rung of the world of literature. When I try to write one, I do not intend to make it nice, I do not intend to make it convincing, yet to me it’s perfect, for it’s a novel creation of mine and mine only. Taking birth in the womb of thought, from either euphoria or morbidity. It’s me whop will appreciate in a special way for the predicament of others would just be another point of view. In the large field of vision, it will be somber yet the subtle adaptations to modify filthy and wealthy, poor and secure , rich and stitch, high and sky, low and toe , rout and shout , fire and pyre , show somewhat ironical rhymes in symmetry while sometimes in dichotomy in linguistics and that's what makes it special. There is a end to mathematics, there is a end to chemicals, there is perhaps and end to the universe, but to literature there isn’t any, for it’s not it’s existence that is special , but the essence that is surreal.
Even the beggar who shivers in the rain, might follow the stars better than us, may be a mangy cur can also profess its pain, but literature or rather living lecture of life shall always define each event in its own way. For some the beggar is poor, for some he is unfortunate, while for others he is insignificant. I believe, and I shall believe that may be the world will be a safer place without the living lecture, but undoubtedly it is a necessary evil.
And this is where literature proves un parallel, it is so flexible that in spite of being evil, it’s literature that inspires a billion souls, in spite of being evil , it’s the back bone of literature and so evil or not it’s there to stay. May be when I call it evil, I am being biased. May be I am looking at the terrorism in the name of Jehad, may be I looking at the Sati, may be the sacrifice of a girl child , or the blasphemy of a papal being a non practitioner of celibacy…. It’s rigid , yet modifiable , its harsh yet kind, its wrong yet right, it’s the cacophony of conscience with a touch of human strings. A melody so harsh that it can provoke to ravish, yet a preaching so enlightening that it can prevent a suicide….
It’s sometime the to be or not to be’s that defines this parody of prime pragmatism, or a real rollback on the shadow of romanticism , but in today’s world literature shall cry only one name…
THE TIME IS OUT OF JOINT…………..
O’ CURSED SPITE!
THAT I WAS BORN TO SET IT RIGHT…………..
