The Poetry of the Earth is Never Dead!

A cross sort of world we are living in.

PHOTO ILLUSTRATION BY GREG KLEE/GLOBE STAFF

It was 1925, when T.S.Eliot, named the then modern men 'The Hollow Men’. In his this poem , he says:

We are the hollow men We are the stuffed men Leaning together Headpiece filled with straw. Alas! Our dried voices, when We whisper together Are quiet and meaningless As wind in dry grass or rats' feet over broken glass In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour, Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed With direct eyes, to death’s other kingdom Remember us - if at all - not as lost Violent souls, but only As the hollow men The stuffed men.

What a pity!

He wrote almost a century ago, and rightly so, A philosopher was he, and the persons of his rank and stature can forecast as he did. The Hollowness prevailed and we reached 2020. The era of 'The Hollow Men' was not that much advanced as we are now. Today, we are a ‘Global village’. A village where tyranny reigns, where dishonesty is only the art, hypocrisy is such a scheming, spirituality is no more, materialism is all we worth, desires drive us madly, satisfaction of lust is our accomplishment, relationship is simply superficial. Weapons, living styles, attitudes, approaches, goals, love, hate, all destructive.

Spirituality is a bliss; we miss!

I then resorted to Graeme King’s 'Tears of Nautre’. King says at the end of the poem about the sheer negligence of ‘The Hollow Men'

Worry on the future? Pass it by! How can preservation start with me? I think I just heard Mother Nature cry. You’d think we’d learn as time goes spending by.

Regretfully, ' The Hollow Men' didn’t learn even time lapsed. ' The Hollow Men' littered the 'Mother Nature’, made her cry time and again, slayed her throat through deforestation, left her restless and sobing, contaminated its worth and left residue of simply chaos.

'Spirituality is the zenith, Avarice is nadir.'

• Then comes the turn of the Mother nature. Now, she enjoys the early chirping of the birds after more than even a half century. Now, she is feeling tranquility as there is no stampede left on the roads and bazars. The poison we spread for her has now become venomous for her inhabitants. Course of the rotation of the earth has got its reverse. An unseen viral entity is looming and hovering all round and our technology, worth , modernization, knelt down to the very basics of a human life.

Photo by Louis Maniquet on Unsplash

Can Corona Coronate our Earth and our thoughts to think like Keats ‘A thing of beauty is a joy forever’. Can Corona make us respect our Mother Nature? Can Corona transform us from Hollow beings to Real concrete being? Can Corona disentangle us from worthless materialistic pursuits to selfless ecstatic mirth? Remember, we may vanish but as Keats says:

'The poetry of the earth is never dead.'