Full many a gem of purest ray serene
The dark unfathomed caves of ocean bear;
Full many a flower is born to blush unseen,
And waste its sweetness on the desert air.

Brevity, Thomas Gray's brilliance, clinches these four lines the distinction of being the most beautiful lines of poetry in my mind now. Before they had been nothing more than the string of words were themselves. Lines of poetry. That is ... till yesterday. For some reason I myself cannot understand, I had suddenly become curious about a man who lived opposite my accomodation here in Bangalore. To me he looked much more than what he showed himself to be. So I started imagining him in his completeness trying to fill in myself what I thought he would be hiding. And I came up with this:


Under the visage of a rock
Beggar like countenance
Shoes too big for his feet
Dirty pink shirt tucked deep inside
A pair of pants pulled too high
Lived a legend, unparalleled
Walking stooped
Head swinging to either side
(His brain was heavy, apparently)
Shuttling between two shoddy buildings
Each one room large
Cut in two by a street
One to sleep in, one to eat in
Lived a legend, unparalleled
Dome shaped head, tapering to the top
Eyes looking to faraway infinity
Except when made human by a pair of glasses
Worn during a morning
Of reading the news
With a twinkle in the eye and a smile
The gleam of a child who knows it's right
Grown with care, day after day
Maximum today, no one knew
As the words slowly unfolded before him
Ten thousand die in Indonesia
(Because no one listened)
Morning evening spent talking to the Gods
In silence
Never betraying meaningless contemplation
Petting kids who run back home crying
(Monster, mother had pointed to him and said
And mother was always right.)
The neighbourhood lived out its monotony
Day in and day out
Never realizing that in its midst
There lived a man who held the world
Never listened to him proclaim
The end of the world is here
Said he, the end of the world is here
And still no one listened
For dead was the neighbourhood that lived out its monotony
And in its midst,
Lived on, a legend unparalleled

This I wrote straight out. And then finally read the results. I had in essence said what Gray had already said in those very four lines. And that was when it struck me. Brevity. Thomas Gray's brilliance. The simple four lines came alive in my mind, its ferocity of awakening rivalled only by one Mr. Frankenstein.