The mind is blank today. Thoughts are disconnected,
Disconnected thoughts were the trouble Poets faced
after WWI and WWII.
Oh, do not believe me, just read
T S Eliot's,
"The Love Song Of J Alfred Prufrock".
It is said that the moment you are laughing there is
the person crying at the same time.
Not only Nature's resources but everything that inhibits this
world is in limited quantity. Be it Nature's or created by us.
Everth tiny to a giant thing taking space on this earth possess
a special value.
And copying that we created our system and governance.
Before this crisis, we had taken some professions very lightly
We have taken them granted.
But now when the tonnes of Arsenal, Ballistic Missiles,
and millions of soldiers are overtaken by another profession--
The profession which earlier was taken seriously when
the particular catastrophe fell on a single-family.
But when that catastrophe increase in magnitude then
we realize what have we done.
Yes, It is true, we see what the people
in power want us to see.
Half of the countries budget is allocated to defense. Though it is
one of the pillars that maintain stability in society,
Countries cannot compromise other sectors.
And I think this will open their eyes, at least for a moment,
And they will work on it.
Stories are coming out, doctors falling on the line of duty.
They isolate returning home,
And the shortage of protective gears is not slackening
them from performing their duty.
So, why are they doing this? Is it Hippocratic Oath?
Or something else?
If a person is dying and the art or any artistry you know that
can save his life,
Will you do it? Alright, now, if you know that there is a chance of getting the same thing yourself, will you do it?
Am I fully aware of grim reality or
I write what I see and read?
If it is true then where are my original thoughts?
It is again a chance to realize that nothing is trivial in this world.
We have the use of ant as well as elephant, equally, without any
classification or superiority.
Every profession is required to maintain a fine balance in the world.
Somewhere I have read or heard I couldn't remember correctly,
But it said that poetry is dying.
It was hard to believe, but it was a fact.
I being a literary student did not remember any contemporary
English poet in my country.
How sad it seems.
But there is another way to look this dying of poetry,
Maybe our lives have so eased, engulfed with appurtenances,
Our lives have grown too fast that we give up on things
that take more than five seconds.
In other words, our generation is impatient.
The availability of things in one touch has reduced their mind
And I proclaim, tomorrow there will be Devices and gadgets
that will do the brains work and we like animals
sleep and eat.
Or we can say that our generation is not suffering enough
to take recluse to poetry.
Poetry comes from suffering
And the best poetry had come from the worst of times.
Time flew fast! Whew!
One hour passed like ten minutes.
Indeed, writing is therapeutic!