When the drew drops settled for the leaves
The tree began grumbling in disgust
How could those dew drops send forth a chill to it's barren heart!
The tree mused for days basking under the prudent sun
The dew drops made the leaves sparkle
Sparing the old tree trunk a rugged look
The leaves were his, how could the dew drops outshine his glory!
He maintained his calm.
Autumn made his leaves quiver
They couldn't outlast it's wrath
The dew drops vanished in thin air
The wry leaves lost their charm
The old trunk in its glory stood rooted.
His solitude was finally rewarded.
All in the sands of time do disappear,
And all that remains are memories that you can't outlive.
"Read between the lines", I heard our professor say. We were in midst of a Victorian text. I looked at her point blank. She had spoken about something which I had no clue about. "Ma'am, would you please elaborate? ", I tried framing this sentence in my mind but my introverted self overpowered my inquisitive soul like everytime. I hopelessly waited for an explanation. Ma'am started explaining about how beyond the surface meaning of any written text, there lay a wide plethora of meaning which wasn't explicitly stated. She talked about finding a void between the written words and our imagination, that void which shapes our interpretation. That explanation opened doors to my perception of reading a text. It wasn't that I had never considered about the possibilities of meanings that lay coated in words until then, but, what perhaps I lacked was to look for that void where I questioned the layers of meaning, where I put myself in those layers of wo...
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