041. Chocolate Bus. Robert Lynd Essay. Reintroduced By P S Remesh Chandran

041.

Chocolate Bus. Robert Lynd Essay. Reintroduced By P S Remesh Chandran

Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum
  


First published: 5th Dec 2011
 

Omnibus was the old name for a bus. When city buses were newly introduced in the London streets, they were uniformly coloured chocolate. Robert Lynd disliked them for their colour which was dull and non-interesting to the eyes and also because they deprived him of the delights of walking. Like A.G.Gardiner’s Bus Conductor, Lynd’s Chocolate Bus reminds us of the many virtues which are leaving us one by one. And buses too may say farewell to us just as row boats did when bridges came into being.

 

The delight of walking is meeting persons on the way, spending a few minutes with them in small talk and having enough psychological delights for the day.  

 

Old timer on London road. Martin Addison.

Suppose we are used to walk long distances and we are used also to like walking those distances. We shall meet so many persons of our acquaintance and not, shall spend a few minutes with them indulging in small talk and serious talk, and before we reach our destination, have enough psychological delights for the day. But when buses begin to ply the route we begin to become lonely on the road. Moreover it would be embarrassing for us to see a person whom we passed on the way walking in front of us at another place after alighting from a bus. In no time we will begin to hate buses. That was exactly what happened to Robert Lynd. He began to hate buses. Lynd’s essays are deep in thought but lucid in style. His essays enriched English language and literature much like his counter part Gardiner. Chocolate Bus is included in his collection of essays ‘Solomon In All His Glory.’

Birds of the least brilliant colour may sing the most brilliant songs.

Bus in old clean London street. Dr. Neil Clifton.

Do not anyone think that Lynd is blind in his observations, due to his prejudice against the dull coloured Chocolate Buses. He makes several strange observations in spite of these buses denying him vibrant colour patterns pleasing to his eyes and deprives him of the delights of walking. Chocolate which is dull and boring to the eyes of course is charming to the palate. Their delicious taste is savoured by all. Birds of the least brilliant colour would most probably sing the most brilliant songs. Sweets of the poorest favour may sometimes have the richest flavour. In this way perhaps the dull coloured Chocolate Buses also could be of the most beneficial use to mankind.

To see sights for ten miles from a running bus, the focusing muscles of the eyes do the equal labour the biceps muscles of the legs do to run the same distance. 
 

One of the early sensations in England. Simon Osborne.

When we travel in a bus most often we will prepare ourselves to see all the sights along the way. So we sit ourselves on a convenient side seat and begin seeing things. If we do it, before we are not over many miles, we will see that our eyes are closed and we are asleep. When we see sights from a running bus, the actual labour the focusing muscles in our eyes do to focus images before our retina to provide a stable picture is equal to what the biceps muscles of our legs do to run the same distance. No wonder the focusing muscles become soon tired and we fall asleep before long.

Thoughts originating while travelling in a bus will have high voltage and decisions taken then would be coming from a very kinetic mind. 
 

First London Route Master Bus. Luiz Marini, Berlin.

But travelling in a running vehicle stimulates our thoughts too. The speed of the vehicle adds speed to our thoughts also. We know that weight into velocity is momentum. Momentum of the bus can be spent on the road but we, sitting with our fixed weight without the liberty of movement in the confines of a bus, will feel the momentum enter our mind and take off with it. Thoughts originating from us while travelling in a bus will be high voltage thoughts. Decisions taken then would be coming from a very kinetic mind.

Dante ought to have included bus travels as one of the Torments of the Inferno. 
 

Glasgow tram cars Priestley wrote about. Dr. Neil Clifton.

Bus travellers will often have bitter experiences. The buses would be overcrowded and there would not be empty seats. Sometimes there would not even be a foot of floor space empty to stand on. The passengers would feel they are imprisoned in a black hole that is a bus that is rocking also on the pot holes. Mechanical vibration of the bus would enter our heel, head and bones. One will wonder whether this is the fulfillment of the travel dreams of the Greeks, Romans and the other civilized races. Lynd says that the South Sea Islander lolling lazily in his lagoon is unfortunate to miss this unique experience of bus travel since there are no buses in that remote part of the globe.

If buses were made prisons the prisoners would object and crimes would cease to happen. 
 

A London tram car. Photo: John Bennet.

A bus is a mechanical rhinoceros to travel inside which one has to pay also. Bus travellers get no wind except one composed of half dust and another half other people’s breathe. If buses were made prisons the prisoners would object and crimes would cease to happen. Criminals in the ancient world were put in barrels with spikes and rolled down the hills as punishment which was far lighter than to have been condemned to have a bus travel as the punishment. Lynd wonders why Dante did not include bus travel as one of the punishments among the multitude of torments in hell he described in his classic, The Divine Comedy.

The sheep in the field, the fly on the window, the sparrow on the road, all constantly keep moving. Movement is the manifestation of life. 
 

Two old trams in the Transport Museum. Dr. Neil Clifton.

When compared to a travel in the bus, walking has a number of advantages. Walking is a rhythmic and pleasant form of movement. There is a natural rhythm in walking. We are free to walk as lazily as an old dog or as fast as a cock picking food. Walking gives us enough time for sight seeing and thinking. One can stop at shop windows and look into things displayed there, or can peer inside. A walking man gets news also. The greatest pleasure of all in walking is the realization that there is no hurry. It is the law of nature that living things must keep moving. Movement is the manifestation of life. The sheep in the field, the fly on the window, the sparrow on the road, all constantly keep moving. This movement of limbs and wings is the very basis of life. It is pleasanter to move constantly like the planets than to sit still like a heap of stones. ‘Man is the only animal that escaped from perpetual motion and stiffened into stillness while he is yet neither a cripple nor dead.’ Sitting inert has now become a habit to man.

The desire of man to travel with the least body movement caused the invention of vehicles. His inertness is now complete. 
 

A 1984 electric train. David Ingham.

It is the desire of man to travel with the least body movement that caused the invention of vehicles. A survey of the vehicles he developed in their chronological order would reveal his inclinations. First he rode horses which provided an overall rhythmic movement to his muscles. Then came the row boat in which the hands alone had to move and the legs rested. With the invention of the wheel and the sail he became able to move without moving him at all. Cycles and automobiles followed and then came motor cycle, car, bus, ship and aero plane. And now there is the rocket too. His inertness is now complete.

The flowing streams, the playing children and the singing birds no more touch the bus traveller. 
 

Channel Tunnel Train emerging. By Xtrememachineuk.

It was this inertness and laziness of man that gave a chance to men with mechanical minds to make inventions. Thanks to these vehicles man is now able to transport people in bulk numbers from place to place. In all these vehicles man needn’t move his body. He only has to buy a ticket. But he no more enjoys the various amusements on the way. The flowing streams, the playing children and the singing birds no more touch him. He is now shut inside a box on wheels and carried away at top speed. One has no more life than a posted letter so far as he is sitting in a travelling vehicle. It was great movements of mind and body matter that created renaissance in Italy four hundred years earlier. Henceforth there would be no renaissance. Riding in buses has killed the kinetic minds in our society. Thus this essay is really Robert Lynd’s ‘Ode to Walking.’

Many fear the channel tunnel will gradually destroy the euphoric and pleasant isolation England enjoyed for many ages.
 

Channel Tunnel car shuttle interior. Tony Hisgett.

However, he is not a cynical critic. He concludes his essay wishing every success to the chocolate brown buses newly introduced in London streets. After these omnibuses the tram cars and the road trains came. Then there was the tube and now there is the channel tunnel which all fear would gradually destroy the euphoric and pleasant isolation the great island nation of England enjoyed for so many ages.

 
[First written in November 1994]

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Pictures Courtesy: Wikimedia Commons
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Dear Reader,
If you cannot access all pages of P.S.Remesh Chandran, Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum, kindly access them via this link provided here:
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To read about the life and people and their follies of the author's native land Kerala, read Kerala Commentary 

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Appreciations, Articles, British Authors, British Essayists, British Writers, Channel Tunnel, Chocolate Bus, English Essayists, English Literature, Essays, Old London Transport, Omni Buses, P S Remesh Chandran, Reintroduced Literature, Reintroductions, Reviews, Robert Lynd, Sahyadri Books Bloom Books Trivandrum, Solomon In All His Glory, Trams
 
Meet the author

PSRemeshChandra

Editor of Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum. Author of several books in English and in Malayalam. And also author of Swan : The Intelligent Picture Book.

038. The Angel In The House. Virginia Woolf Essay. Reintroduced By P S Remesh Chandran

038.

The Angel In The House. Virginia Woolf Essay. Reintroduced by P S Remesh Chandran

Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum

  
First published: 18th Nov 2011

Virginia Woolf was a British essayist, novelist and critic. The Voyage Out, Night And Day and Jacob’s Room are her famous books. Professions For Women was a lecture she gave before a women’s meeting. A woman can be a doctor, a lawyer, a civil servant or a journalist. But in all these professions, the woman has to beat two opponents- the hold of her own womanishness over her and the fear of her opinion of what men would say.

Pianos and visits to Paris, Berlin and Vienna are not at all needed to become a writer.

Virginia Woolf, the writer and feminist.

Virginia Woolf says, becoming a writer was very easy for her. Her road to literature had been laid out clear before her by many woman writers prior to her times such as Jane Austen and George Elliot. Writing had already been made a reputed and harmless occupation for women. Writing no more affected a woman’s family life. Pianos and models, or visits to Paris, Vienna and Berlin were not at all needed to provide varying experiences for writers. Paper alone was needed which was available cheap then. She says availability of cheap writing paper was reason for the success of woman writers in those times. She simply wrote a review for a book, mailed it and received the next month a cheque for more than One Pound from the editor.

She wanted a Persian cat so she wrote a review. Then she wanted a Motor Car and so wrote a novel.

Virginia Woolf with father Sir. Leslie Stephen.

With this money gained from writing a review she bought a beautiful Persian cat for a pet. She got encouraged and grew ambitious. She got thrilled at the prospect of writing things and gaining things she wished for easily. A Persian cat is all very well but a Persian cat is not enough. She decided to have a motor car. So she wrote a novel and became a novelist. It was that simple. Nothing in this world is as delightful as telling stories. In her very early days of career she learned that writing is a very lucrative career. We readers will wonder how it can be so, with the experiences of such famous writers as Dostoevsky and many others before us. But her's was a time when woman writers were very scarce and including a woman's writing in a publication was a desirable change and an attraction. In modern times many a talented writer has complained that he could not get published because he could not go to an editor in skirts and rubber projections.

Removing all womanishness from her work is the real challenge for a woman writer.

Little Virginia with mother Julia Stephen.

For decades it was thought that writing detective novels and stories are set apart for men because no woman detective story writer could excel and surpass in devising stories as those written by G.K.Chesterton and Arthur Conan Doyle. Many critics including this writer still believe that there is something significant missing in the writings of women authors. The only exception to this was that respected lady Ethel Lilian Voynich whose immortal novel 'The Gad Fly' terrorized the literary world as well as the revolutionary world and still serves as the classic motivation for world revolutionaries and guerilla warfare. Even in this novel the delicate feminine caricature of Arthur, the boyhood image of Rivarus, the relentless revolutionary of later years cries aloud that the novel was written by a lady. Conceiving intricate, finished plots somehow eludes the intellectual and imaginative genius of a woman's mind. Not that there is universal consensus that Agatha Christies' novels satisfy us as Arthur Conan Doyle's novels do, but through her a woman for the first time successfully established herself as a detective novel writer, at least. A professional woman has to remove all womanishness from her work. A good work of literature shall not proclaim that it was written by a woman. All women writers are hindered by the goodness of the womanishness in them. Virginia Woolf calls this phantom idea ‘The Angel in the House’, borrowing from the title of a poem by Coventry Patmore. In those last days of Queen Victoria’s Era, every house in England had its angel in it so far as the prosperity brought to that island nation from her far out colonies remained undisturbed. In the midst of this immense confiscated prosperity the women did not have to work and could afford servants. Their hands remained uncalloused. This expression, The Angel In The House, denotes the sympathetic, charming, unselfish goodness of womanhood present in all women of those times and in all times. But for a woman writer, it is an obstacle to as freely and openly dealing with a subject as men do in their writings. She cannot write something original if this phantom presence of ‘the Angel in the House’ is not killed. Though it is only an imagination of the mind, it was a great problem to the Victorian era women writers.

It is harder to kill a phantom presence in one's mind than killing a reality.

Virginia Woolf's father Sir. Leslie Stephen in 1860.

Killing the ‘Angel in the House’ was part of the occupation of a woman writer in the old English times. It still is. It is far harder to kill a phantom image that is existing in one's own mind than killing something which is real and substantial. It has to be done mentally. Virginia Woolf strove hard and got rid of this imaginary presence on her mind finally. Woolf says: ‘It was she who bothered me and wasted my time and who so tormented me that at last I was forced to kill her. Had I not killed her, she would have killed me and destroyed my career as a writer.’ Without getting rid of this imaginary presence, she would never have become a good writer.

Most women writers fear that men would be shocked to see what they have written.
 

Virginia Woolf with Noel Oliver, Maitland Radford and Rupert Brooke.

Men and women have similar structure in their minds. A novelist has a peculiar state of mind. He wants to be as unconscious as possible in his inner self and in his inter relations. He is always in a trance. Any change in his immediate environment is unbearable to him. Things should be quiet and regular for him. He is really always in an illusion. Most woman writers find it hard to write freely of their feelings. They fear men would be shocked at what they have written. However, women have entered almost all professions human skill can enter. Woolf tells women: ‘You have won rooms of your own in the house hitherto exclusively owned by men. Now they have to be furnished, decorated and shared.” It is said that men in the house will have their favourite seats, and the women in the house have their favourite rooms. It is interesting to note that Woolf's advice to women also illustrates how womanish an advice can be.

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Pictures Courtesy: Wikimedia Commons
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Dear Reader,
If you cannot access all pages of P.S.Remesh Chandran, Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum, kindly access them via this link provided here:
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Angel In The House, Appreciations, Articles, British Authors, British Writers, English Literature, Essays, P S Remesh Chandran, Professions For Women, Reintroductions, Reviews, Sahyadri Books Bloom Books Trivandrum, Virginia Woolf

Meet the author
PSRemeshChandra

 
Editor of Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum. Author of several books in English and in Malayalam. And also author of Swan : The Intelligent Picture Book. 


 

036. Thoughts At The Ferry. E V Lucas Essay. Reintroduced By P S Remesh Chandran

036. 

Thoughts At The Ferry. E V Lucas Essay. Reintroduced by P S Remesh Chandran 

Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum
 

 
First published: 23rd Sep 2011

Ferrymen and their boats are a departing lot. The world depended on them much for thousands and thousands of years to reach destinations and return to home. But when bridges came to be built across rivers, they became of no use. But in remote hamlets and in unreachable parts of the world they still can be seen, transporting people across rivers, ensuring the onward progress and flow of human life. E.V.Lucas makes a quick glance into the mind of a ferryman.

Thoughts passing through the mind of a traveller as he is waiting for the ferryboat.

E.V.Lucas, along with A.G.Gardiner, led the renaissance in English essays. This gifted Londoner had a gifted tongue which he used for creating good English prose. A rich variety of subjects were brought to human attention by these writers in their plain, lucid language. Here we see Lucas waiting for the next ferry boat. Several thoughts pass through his mind which he pens down to make us aware of the ferry man’s strange situation. The ferryman and his boat are at the beck and call of all and he makes no complaints even when called at night.

Picture of the ferryman fading away from towns and villages as bridges are built across rivers.


Canoes, departing from the world. An 1886 painting.

Ferrymen were an inevitable part and constituent of life in the old world. Villages and towns depended upon them to begin and to end days. Now bridges have come across almost all rivers and the ferrymen and the ferry are a departing picture. Today it is just a nostalgic remembrance for a few and majority of the population nowadays has not even seen a ferryman. What once was a common picture of human life lives now only in articles and essays of this kind.

The world literature is full of ferrymen and their boats.

Always at the beck and call of all. Scotland, 1858.

But the world literature and history is full of stories of their invaluable services. Had there been no ferryman as Guhan who was willing to transport Rama and Sita in his boat, the epic of Ramayana would have progressed in another way. Human souls would not have reached their assigned place had there been no reckless ferryman there to ferry them across Hades in the Stygian Land.

It is a universal legend that ferrymen sing. Who can sing in the presence of such silence and gloom?

Campsite of a ferryman: always lives nearby.

Ferrymen everywhere are mostly gloomy. There is a wealth of reasons for their lack of mirth. One is the course of the boat. Had it travelled along the river it would have been a pleasure but it travels across the river always. It constantly crosses the river from side to side, and that too from the same spots on either side, which makes the journey monotonous and gloomy. Then, it is a legend that ferrymen sing. Lucas had as a boy a pretty song in his memory about the Twickenham Ferry. But in actuality the ferrymen never sing. Who could carol in the presence of such silence and gloom?

All the world may go wayfaring during Ramazan, Christmas and Passover but not he!

There are ferry women too in the backwaters of Kerala.

The ferryman shall not leave his post. It is expected that he would be present on his post day and night. This is another reason fro their gloominess. All the world may go wayfaring but not he! Many live in hovels close by. When Christmas, Ramazan and Passover comes, he should be there to transport those who go to partake in these festivities but he and his family cannot partake in them. He is always in the open with blowing breeze and racing clouds around him. Exciting sound of running water constantly falls in his ear. Such a thrilling and intoxicating atmosphere would have made anyone an explorer but the ferry man cannot leave his place. ‘Travel appears for us the exploration into the unknown but for him it is the narrow confines of the known.’

The ferryman is always there at the beck and call of all.

Monotonous journey, mute companions.
 

There is yet another reason for his hatred of mankind. Whenever we call he should be there. He may be annoyed, and it may add fuel to his misanthropic fire, but whenever we call he does come with the boat. Though he thus strives prompt and hard to serve the world, the world seems not to consider him enough. ‘Even great charitable persons like Carnegie have not left some legacy to any ferryman.’

Why do they write songs like ‘The Ferryman And The Goose?’ Why cannot they write ‘The Ferryman And The Swan?’

Hailing the ferryman. Daniel Knight, 1910.

Companionship of the ferryman’s passengers is brief which also adds to his gloom. People of various cultures daily enter his boat providing him with good scope for conversation. But no sooner they reach the other bank of the river than they step out and are gone. Therefore ferrymen often keep dumb animals as their companions. Some carry dogs, some carry parrots and some others geese. These companions will have great fidelity to them. However, poetry titles like ‘The Ferryman and the Goose’ stain and degrade them. Why can’t they write something like ‘The Ferryman and the Swan?’ The ferrymen deserve the companionship of the better and the most beautiful. Thus, if we examine the more and the more closely, the ferrymen appear the more and the more dismal.

A fine song reflecting the righteousness and reserve of the old England times.

Prompt to come at any time. Edmund Blair Leighton.

Do not think there have not been good ferryman songs. Christina Rossetti’s ‘The Ferryman’ is a fine ferryman song in English literature. We can see in it the righteousness and English reserve of a ferryman of that time. The damsel in the song tempts the ferryman by mentioning that she has blue eyes which may mean she is blue-blooded, available or both but he does not fall into the seduction. This song, with a 21-year old ferryman and 18-year-old English girl is a fine piece for orchestration and filming. And the music Christina incorporated into this song is immortal. In fact, there have been multiple tunes to this song, one as slow rhythmic as a gently flowing stream and another as quick as a rapid. But no orchestration or filming has ever been made of this song. It is lying open, waiting for its time.

The Ferryman: Christina Rossetti’s famous song portraying the charm of bygone rural life.


A passenger is waiting on the other bank. Leighton, 1898.

THE FERRYMAN
Christina Rossetti

Ferry me across the water
Do, do boatman do;
If you have a penny in your
Purse, I will do.

I have a penny in my purse
And my eyes are blue,
So ferry me across the water
Do, boatman do.

Step into my ferry boat
Be they black or blue,
And for the penny in your purse
I will ferry you.

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Pictures Courtesy: Wikimedia Commons
___________________________


Dear Reader,
If you cannot access all pages of P.S.Remesh Chandran, Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum, kindly access them via this link provided here:
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Appreciations, Articles, British Authors, British Writers, Christina Rossetti, E V Lucas, English Literature, Essays, Ferryman Essays, Ferryman Literature, Ferryman Songs, Ferrymen And Their Lives, P S Remesh Chandran, Reintroductions, Renaissance In English Prose, Reviews, Sahyadri Books Bloom Books Trivandrum, The Ferryman, Thoughts At The Ferry

Meet the author
 
PSRemeshChandra

Editor of Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum. Author of several books in English and in Malayalam. And also author of Swan : The Intelligent Picture Book.

 

031. All The World’s A Stage. Shakespeare Song. Appreciation By P S Remesh Chandran

031.

All The World’s A Stage. Shakespeare Song. Appreciation By P S Remesh Chandran
 
Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum

   
First published: 12th Jul 2011

Human beings are born far earlier than when they are ripe to be delivered. If they are retained inside mother body till sufficient growth, the child cannot come out due to large head size. So it has been arranged that they come out early when the head is comparatively small, and remain an invalid infant in the outside world for a very long time, compared to the relatively short infancy of other mammals. That is the price human beings pay for their higher intelligence among the mammalian world.

Life progresses in a circle in which the feelings and passions attached to a particular moment will have to be gone through again.

William Shakespeare was one of the great English poets and dramatists of the Sixteenth Century. ‘All The World Is A Stage’ is a song from his play ‘As You Like It’ which in the play is sung by the melancholy philosopher Jacques. Whether life progresses in a straight line or in a circle is a question still remaining unanswered satisfactorily by philosophers. A point in a straight line will never be repeated, and the feelings and passions attached to that particular moment can never be enjoyed anymore. But a circle is the only figure where every point flies straight forward along its tangent and at the same time ends where it starts. If life progresses in a circle, the feelings and passions attached to a particular age certainly can be gone through and experienced again in life after a time as illustrated in this song, the old age being an exact replica of the infancy. But it has to be agreed that Jacques' description of the various stages of man's life is rather cynical.

Suppose a man and a monkey are born on the same day: The monkey attains maturity far earlier.

Shakespeare Memorial Theatre in Stratford Upon The Avon.

Man's history on earth seems to be pitiful and comic. He has seven distinct stages in his life in this world which appears as characters one after the other in a play. Infant, school boy, lover, soldier, magistrate, old man and the dying man-all these parts are played by us one after another on the stage that is this world, unless untimely called back to the place where we came from. Mankind has the longest infancy in the animal world. Suppose a monkey and a man is born on the same day. When it is one year old, the monkey would be performing many wonderful tricks and impossible feats in the trees, but the human child would still be lying there invalid, vulnerable and unable to do things by itself.

The most beautiful thing in this world is the morning face of a child going to school.

Shakespeare's statue in London.

This long period of helpless infancy is a preparation for the future mighty acts that are to be performed by man. Shakespeare spells this philosophy strongly in the song. A newborn baby kicks and cries in his nurses' arms. The whining school boy with his heavy set of books and a shining morning face creeps like an unwilling snail to his grammar school. Yes, times have not changed much. The scenes are the same even today. The most beautiful thing in this world to look at is still the morning face of a child going to school, and when he returns in the evening from school, he still looks like returning from the battle field after a fight.

The universal picture of lost lover, heaving sighs like a hot furnace.

Shakespeare's family circle: a German engraving.

The third stage is that of the lover who has loved and lost who sighs like a hot furnace and sings sad songs about his lost love. Such sentimentality and unripeness shall be forgiven, as it also is a natural stage in the normal evolvement of the human psyche and physique. Then the stage of the lover strongly and silently evolves into that of the soldier, when sentimentality withdraws and strength appears in its place. In this stage, which is unusually colourful and lively, he seeks chivalry and glory and is even ready to get into and explode himself inside the cannon's mouth to gain a bubble reputation, though momentary.

A person standing outside this universe, watching us, would be amazed at the naturalness of our acting.

King John acted at Drury Lane Theatre.

Now come the rest three successive stages of the middle aged man, the old man and the dying man, which also we act such extremely well on the stage that if someone stands outside this world and watches us, he would be amazed at how naturally we act. The fifth is a transition period in which man is equipped with the energy of the young and the experience of the old. How fortunate and prime a time and state to form oneself a statesman! In this middle age he is exceptionally able to distinguish between the right and the wrong and behaves like a magistrate, the man of justice. Then he becomes old, his body becomes weak, and he begins to wear light slippers in place of heavy boots. He wears spectacles and his cheeks are baggy. His trousers are now loose, and they become a vast playground to his thin legs. We may like the old men if at least their sounds are sweet and their words are meaningful, but alas, he has now lost several of his teeth and his words have lost their sweetness and meaning. In the seventh and the last stage, which ends this strange history of man's life on the world's stage, he looses all his teeth, loses sight and taste and everything else and becomes again a child to close the circle. And perhaps after death he may go beyond this world and reside in other realms of this limitless universe, or born again in this world itself to repeat everything.

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Pictures Courtesy: Wikimedia Commons
____________________________


Dear Reader,
If you cannot access all pages of P.S.Remesh Chandran, Editor, Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum, kindly access them via this link provided here:
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Tags
 
All The Worlds A Stage, Ancient Dramas, Appreciations, Articles, As You Like It, British Authors, British Writers, English Literature, Essays, P S Remesh Chandran, Playwrights, Poetical Dramas, Poets, Reintroductions, Reviews, Sahyadri Books Bloom Books Trivandrum, William Shakespeare
 

Meet the author
PSRemeshChandra
 
Editor of Sahyadri Books & Bloom Books, Trivandrum. Author of several books in English and in Malayalam. And also author of Swan : The Intelligent Picture Book.