I can see from here the dying hours of the day-
Even in its deathbed the sun leaves behind seeds which,
Though unformed, may disperse the hellish dark and give company
To this lonely soul that finds pleasure in tormenting itself.
I saw how little birdie fluttered and fell and then flew;
I saw how the little babe stood staggering upon unformed legs,
Clapped its hands in delight unique, brandished unformed teeth,
Smiling as it rose after its first fall, and ran to clutch its
mother.
Delight indeed was in the sight when the drunkard rose
From the slumber deep, shook his head and saw through weary eyes
The new sunrise that brought a new day and a new bout of
indulgence.
O! Did I miss the sight in which the lover, teary eyed after the
first refusal
Went home to collect his shattered dreams, and forth new go!
What was it that sustained life in man
Since the dark days of the caves when the furies of nature would
haunt?
Hopeless, tired and hungry when he returned with hands empty
And faced eyes tender that to him looked, and then drooped?
Oh! What was it that ran in his veins, that snatched the sleep
In desperation new? What was it that drove him to frenzy?
And see now- The look of those eyes bought a world new.
Might I not collect my dreams then and see what lies ahead?
If men could mould fortunes, am I not one?
-29\12\98,Calcutta-63
COMMENTS :
Humanity has always found it difficult to judge
whether its destiny is fully in its own hands or fully in the
hands of some supernatural authority beyond its control. There
have been advocates for both. The fatalists and the determinists,
and there is no dearth of them in India, seem to think that
man’s existence is predefined since his birth- even the breath
he is taking has been preordained. The advocates of human
endeavour argue otherwise- they say that man is his own boss,
otherwise he wouldn’t be what he today is. Some take the view
that this supernatural agent controlling fate is benevolent, some
think that it is mostly malevolent, and some like Thomas Hardy has
a conception of Providence as a detached, impersonal force-
providence has nothing to do with the desires of man and works
independent of humanity’s demands. Most people are of the view
that the real case lies somewhere in the middle- fate is there
dictating major terms like birth and death, but it is human
actions which decide most other terms.
And yet, fate or no fate, man has come a long
way. And he has reached there much due to his own endeavour. And
in this human story of construction there is much to be learnt and
much to be inspired with.
