As in any other year, this year too came Diwali (the festival of light)with resplendent light, crackling sounds, spontaneous joy and excitement; buildings decorated with modern LED lights in varied design and alsotraditional lamps, men and women in their fineries, children busy with their crackers, sweetshops briskly selling sweets of myriad colors and tastes. In the midst of reveling in the festive glory, came the sharp cry of a hawker trying to sell the last of his wares,latein the day.No one seemed to notice him, or the little children in their rags, playing in the streets,with stubs of burnt crackers. No one had the thought, time or inclination to share their joys with those less fortunate than themselves on a festive day. The hawker’s cry reminded me of Edward Thomas, poet, and his poem- The Owl.
Edward ThomasIn my youth I had never heard of Edward
Thomas or his poems. I came across a feature ‘Edward Thomas, Robert Frost, and
the Road to War’ by Mathew Hollis, published in The Guardian dated 29th July,
2011. Ever since reading it, I have
cherished the poem “The Owl” in my heart.
Edward
Thomas Philip Edward Thomas (3 March 1878 – 9 April 1917) was an Anglo-Welsh
poet and essayist, by nature very quietand inwardly drawn. Thomas was
vehemently opposed to wars and gave expression to his anti-war sentiments,
through his poems. However, in his desire to defend the English country side,
which he loved deeply, and, to show his camaraderie with his fellow citizens
who were fighting in the First World War, he finally decided to join it. He was
ultimately killed in the war.
The poet shared a warm friendship with
Robert Frost, the famous American Poet. It is said that the poem ‘The Road not
Taken’ by Frost influenced Thomas to finally take the decision to join the war.
The Poem“The Owl” is a simple poem without any
apparent lyrical quality. It doesn’t convey any grand idea either. Then why
does it disturb us? The shriek of the owl on a cold wintry night, pierces not
only our ears, but also our hearts and souls. For the poet, it was “telling me
plain what I escaped and others could not, that night”.
Now
have a look at the poem: -
DOWNHILL I came,
hungry, and yet not starved,
Cold, yet had heat
within me that was proof
Against the north wind;
tired, yet so that rest
Had seemed the
sweetest thing under a roof.
Then at the inn I had food, fire, and rest,
Knowing how hungry, cold, and tired was I.
All of the night was
quite barred out except
An owl's cry, a most melancholy cry.
Shaken out long and clear upon the hill
No merry note, nor
cause of merriment,
But one telling me
plain what I escaped
And others could not,
that night, as in I went.
And salted was my
food, and my repose,
Salted and sobered
too, by the bird's voice
Speaking for all who
lay under the stars,
Soldiers and poor,
unable to rejoice.(www.poemhunter.com)
MeaningIt is interesting to ponder over the meaning of this
poem. A soldier, tired and hungry, arrives at an inn where he finds food,
warmth and shelter. While he is basking in his comfort, he hears the
melancholic shriek of an owl, which reminds him of his fellow soldiers, and the
poor, who were lying under the open sky, deprived of those comforts.
The
soldier symbolizes the poet himself who has been able to fulfill his basic
needs. However, the owl--his conscience- wakes him up from his repose,
reminding him of the plight of those who are less fortunate than him. Perhaps,
it is the same fellow-feeling and pangs of conscience which drove him to join
the war, and, sacrifice his life for a common cause.
ImportanceThis poem once again tells us that man cannot
be truly happy, unless he thinks and cares for his fellow (sentient &
non-sentient) beings. We must remember that in today’s world owls are
fastdisappearing, due to habitat loss; there will be no owl left to remind us
of our duty anymore, except, the owl of our conscience.
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(Note:
This blog is based on a write- up by the author on similar subject, published
in the Annual Issues of Life stream e-magazine 2012 & 2013)
