Just found my old diary in which I wrote this article , many years back in January 1997 . Probably I was less of a pessimist that time :) Loved reading it and so am sharing it with you .
I am .
" But what am I ?
An infant crying at the night .
An infant crying for the light .
And with no language but a cry ! "
Many a times these lines by Tennyson appear so very meaningful . A simple question that has roused itself again and again in my consciousness is ' What am I ? ' Am I just a name , a tiny dot in this big , wide , mysterious world , existing without anything like a design or purpose !
I am ." But what am I ?
An infant crying at the night .
An infant crying for the light .
And with no language but a cry ! "
Many a times these lines by Tennyson appear so very meaningful . A simple question that has roused itself again and again in my consciousness is ' What am I ? ' Am I just a name , a tiny dot in this big , wide , mysterious world , existing without anything like a design or purpose !
