Friday, October 1, 2010

The Beauty Of Keeping Quiet.

Keeping Quiet is just not a poem by Pablo Neruda; it teaches you the aspect of life. I remember being absent on the day it was being taught by our English teacher Moushumi Ma’am. The basic idea of the poem is to introspect by keeping yourself mum for a moment.
Yesterday night I remember feeling low, for some silly reason (which I can proudly claim today, but not yesterday :D). Anyway, in that situation I chose to keep quiet.
Try it! Just distract yourself from the world and from all those luxuries that you are a part of. Music,Movies,Television,people, and most importantly your tongue.
When I chose to keep mute, I realized how we always jabber and jabber, anything, just for the sake of talking. But nothing could match the peace of not talking, even for a minute. After you have kept yourself shut in a room, which is dark, your mouth oblivious of what talking is like. The voices from inside begins to speak. Like some magic has been cast on you, or the gods speaking, they show you your real fault, where you went wrong and how you should not repeat the same mistake in future.
All great people have said “follow the voice of conscience” and in moments of stillness and darkness, the voices from inside begins to guide you to lead life. After doing this experiment, for 1 or 2 minutes come out and face the real world, the world of light, the world of jabbering, and the world of people.
You notice how foolishly engrossed we are in this world, how we just never try to attain peace, which is the basic necessity of life more than anything.
After doing this experiment, I realized the law of life lies in literature, in poetry that uses words and situation to make you rise, like the rising sun, not to fall like the falling star. 

Here is a poem - Keeping Quiet By Pablo Neruda.

And now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still.

For once on the face of the earth
let's not speak in any language,
let's stop for one second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines,
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fisherman in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victory with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.
Life is what it is about,
I want no truck with death.

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with death.

Perhaps the earth can teach us
as when everything seems dead
and later proves to be alive.
Now I'll count up to twelve,
and you keep quiet and I will go.

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