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Rome was not Built in a Day

Rome was not Built in a Day is a beautiful and meaningful proverb. This fantastic proverb teaches us the lesson of patience and perseverance. Some people think that great things can be done in a day or two. Such people suffer from impatience for grand result. They don't wait. Time and again they change their aims of of life. They are in hurry to achieve grand success. But they forget that there is no magic to do something great overnight. Inventions are the result of hard labour of many years. Marconi laboured hard for many years and after that he invented the wireless. Wright Brothers had to work for years for the invention of aeroplane. India achieved her freedom not in a day or two. Freedom was achieved  after a long struggle. Thus it is true that Rome was not Built in a day.  

A Friend in Need is Friend Indeed

A Friend in Need is Friend Indeed is a beautiful and meaningful proverb. Friendship is one of the greatest treasures of man's life. Unfortunately true friends are rare. Many friends are friends only in name. They are selfish by nature. They maintain friendship as long as their own interests are served. Such selfish friends leave their friends in lurch. Such friends are not real and ideal friends. They are fair-weather friends. On the other hand, a true friend is he or she who stands by his friend even in bad days. He helps him in difficulties. He stands by him like a rock. He sinks and swims with him. His friend's joys and sorrows are his. He laughs when his friend laughs. He smiles when his friend smiles. He weeps when his friend weeps. Only such friend are real friends. Thus A Friend in Need is Friend Indeed.

Where the Mind is Without Fear - Question & Answer

  Q1. What is meant by the expression Knowledge is free? ANS: The expression knowledge is free means that knowledge should be open to all. It should be free from restrictions so that all may acquire it. Q2. What narrow domestic walls are referred to by the poet? Ans: By the poet narrow domestic walls are referred to the class, caste, creed, colour, religion and all those elements that are barriers in the way of unity.  Q3. Why does the poet compare reason with stream? ANS: The poet compares reason with stream because the reason has the free flow of good sense as the stream has the free flow of water. Q4. What are two qualities of mind presented in the poem? Ans: The two qualities of mind presented in the poem are fearless thought and action. Q5. Why does the poet compare 'dead habit' to 'dreary desert sand'? ANS: The poet compares dead habit to desert sand because old beliefs are dangerous for reason or good sense as the dreary desert sand is dangerous for the entity

Tom Jones as a Picaresque Novel

 Is Tom Jones a picaresque novel? To know the answer of this question, it is essential to know the details of the term picaresque. The term picaresque has been derived from a Spanish word 'Picaro' . Its meaning is - a rouge or knave or a villain etc. Thus a picaresque novel is an episodic depiction of the adventures and the misadventures of a picaro. Mostly he wanders on the highways. He moves from one place to the other. The picaresque form gives ample scope to the novelist. This form does not require a well organised plot. The movements of the protagonist give an opportunity to introduce a wide variety of events and characters. The hero is now in the country, now on the highways, now in London. He confronts thieves, rescues beautiful damsels and falls in love. He fights duels, suffers arresting and comes in touch with a vast variety of people. In fact, the novelist paints the society as a whole. This form gives the novelist enough scope to throw light on the life, cu

Tagore as a Poet

  R. N. Tagore is known as Gurudev. He is one of the greatest personalities of modern Indian literary scene. As a poet he earned international recognition. He received the Nobel prize for Literature in 1913. Tagore was born in Calcutta on May 7, 1861. His father Devendranath was one of the founders of the religious society called the Brahmo Samaj. Tagore was a versatile genius. His literary works include novels, essays, short stories, travelogues, dramas and thousands of songs. But people know him as a poet. It is he who has composed Jana Gana Mana , the national anthem of India. He also wrote Amar Sonar Bangla , the national anthem of Bangladesh. Tagore deftly handled all the genres of literature. His versatility, his literary corpus and the quality of his writings rightly earned him the title of 'Leonardo da Vinci of the Indian Renaissance' . But it was poetry that brought world fame for him.  Tagore's poetry is very varied. It covers many styles. Tagore drew inspirat

Morning Song By Sylvia Plath

  Love set you going like a fat gold watch. The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry    Took its place among the elements.   Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue. In a drafty museum, your nakedness Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.   I’m no more your mother Than the cloud that distils a mirror to reflect its own slow Effacement at the wind’s hand.   All night your moth-breath Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen: A far sea moves in my ear.   One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral In my Victorian nightgown. Your mouth opens clean as a cat’s. The window square   Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try Your handful of notes; The clear vowels rise like balloons.

Dover Beach by Matthew Arnold

The sea is calm to-night. The tide is full, the moon lies fair Upon the straits; on the French coast the light Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand, Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay. Come to the window, sweet is the night-air! Only, from the long line of spray Where the sea meets the moon-blanched land, Listen! you hear the grating roar Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling, At their return, up the high strand, Begin, and cease, and then again begin, With tremulous cadence slow, and bring The eternal note of sadness in.   Sophocles long ago Heard it on the Aegean, and it brought Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow Of human misery; we Find also in the sound a thought, Hearing it by this distant northern sea.   The Sea of Faith Was once, too, at the full, and round earth’s shore Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl’d. But now I only hear Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar, Retreating, to the breath Of the night-wind, down the vast edges

Ode to Evening by William Collins

If aught of oaten stop, or pastoral song, May hope, chaste Eve, to soothe thy modest ear, Like thy own solemn springs, Thy springs and dying gales, O nymph reserved, while now the bright-haired sun Sits in yon western tent, whose cloudy skirts, With brede ethereal wove, O'erhang his wavy bed; Now air is hushed, save where the weak-eyed bat With short shrill shriek flits by on leathern wing, Or where the beetle winds His small but sullen horn As oft he rises 'midst the twilight path Against the pilgrim, borne in heedless hum: Now teach me, maid composed, To breathe some softened strain, Whose numbers stealing through thy dark'ning vale May not unseemly with its stillness suit, As musing slow, I hail Thy genial loved return! For when thy folding star arising shows His paly circlet, at his warning lamp The fragrant hours, and elves Who slept in buds the day, And many a nymph who wreathes her brows with sedge And sheds the fresh'ning dew, and lovelier still, The pensive

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray

  The curfew tolls the knell of parting day, The lowing herd wind slowly o'er the lea, The plowman homeward plods his weary way, And leaves the world to darkness and to me.   Now fades the glimm'ring landscape on the sight, And all the air a solemn stillness holds, Save where the beetle wheels his droning flight, And drowsy tinklings lull the distant folds;   Save that from yonder ivy-mantled tow'r The moping owl does to the moon complain Of such, as wand'ring near her secret bow'r, Molest her ancient solitary reign.   Beneath those rugged elms, that yew-tree's shade, Where heaves the turf in many a mould'ring heap, Each in his narrow cell for ever laid, The rude forefathers of the hamlet sleep.   The breezy call of incense-breathing Morn, The swallow twitt'ring from the straw-built shed, The cock's shrill clarion, or the echoing horn, No more shall rouse them from their lowly bed.   For t

Theme of the Novel Amriika by M. G. Vassanji

M.G. Vassanji’s fourth novel is Amriika. Once again it deals with the themes and ideas that recur throughout his novel. It is an excellent tale of immigrant experience. It explores the state of living in exile.  In ‘More Personal Notes on the Book’ the author himself has expressed his views about this book. He says:   How far can political commitment and radical dissent go? How far west can you go? In Canada this novel, beginning in Boston-Cambridge in the Vietnam War era, was seen as documenting the travails of an immigrant; in India it was seen pre-cursing 9/11.The reader can draw his or her conclusion. “Amriika” is how Indians pronounce America.** ** M.G. Vassanji, “Amriika”. < http: // www.mgvassanji.com /personalNotes2.htm >.

To Celia by B. Jonson

  Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup And I’ll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove’s nectar sup, I would not change for thine.   I sent thee late a rosy wreath, Not so much honouring thee As giving it a hope, that there It could not withered be; But thou thereon didst only breathe And sent’st it back to me; Since when it grows, and smells, I swear, Not of itself, but thee!