The Endings...

What I witnessed today reminded me of Alfred Lord Tennyson's poem:

Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead

Home they brought her warrior dead:
She nor swooned, nor uttered cry:
All her maidens, watching, said,
'She must weep or she will die.'

Then they praised him, soft and low,
Called him worthy to be loved,
Truest friend and noblest foe;
Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,
Lightly to the warrior stepped,
Took the face-cloth from the face;
Yet she neither moved nor wept.

Rose a nurse of ninety years,
Set his child upon her knee--
Like summer tempest came her tears--
'Sweet my child, I live for thee.'

When we were about to leave the cremation ground, I saw three Army men, carrying a wreath and enquiring about a particular no. of funeral pyre. They had come to pay their last respects when all others had left. I looked back and saw them saluting..I couldn't help but think as to what happened to the Army punctuality.....

Patience

Just yesterday, we were discussing about a lost virtue, if it could be called so, patience. I was at an ATM counter trying really hard to extract some money out of it. Hard, cause, the machine wouldn't work. I tried once, twice and finally with a different card but it failed to oblige. The amount of time spent on the activity is anybody's guess. While I was struggling with the machine, a policeman suddenly entered the booth. I was like monsieur, please read 'one person at a time' clearly mentioned outside. The guard followed him and in a very polite manner plainly stated the words. However, this man was in no mood to hear anyone. He started shouting that he was not supposed to stand outside and refused to budge. This, when there were no long queues . I think if he had been at the end of a queue, he would have taken out his pistol:). I guess, people like him should be provided Vantage cards...they need them:) And, I wonder if the machine survived his wrath....