Birth Is A Bubble Burst With Death. Poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar

He and she were married for fifty years.
Now they are no more but children are there.
They didn't carry with them their memory.
Their life is to them now as good as void.
Do they know they had been husband and wife?
They don't know whether they had lived at all.

Memory sustains interest in life.
If memory of each day with that day
Is lost and not recalled the next day
What interest will you have to pursue life?
Each birth, when over, leaves no memory.
Must we attach significance to our life?
27.08.2014