Long time to learn...

Sonnet 19: When I consider how my light is spent

BY JOHN MILTON

When I consider how my light is spent,

   Ere half my days, in this dark world and wide,

   And that one Talent which is death to hide

   Lodged with me useless, though my Soul more bent

To serve therewith my Maker, and present

   My true account, lest he returning chide;

   “Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?”

   I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent

That murmur, soon replies, “God doth not need

   Either man’s work or his own gifts; who best

   Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state

Is Kingly. Thousands at his bidding speed

   And post o’er Land and Ocean without rest:

   They also serve who only stand and wait.”

This poem was taught by my favourite english teacher, Gad sir in high school though I don't exactly remember which class. That was the age when every new idea would trigger a ripple of thoughts which would swell up to become large enough to drown me in the deep contemplation of the novel concept. My plight could be likened to that of a tiny tot who loves to explore each and every nook and corner of a room when left alone without anyone badgering on his every move. A novel thought would always be welcomed with open arms, examined with a keen eye, most of the times accepted with a strong approval depending on who had delivered the thought and nurtured to be put to use when needed. 

Gad sir was my favourite teacher. He went deep into the subject and would  almost always broach into the philosophy of the topic. 

Coming to the poem at hand, the poet has turned blind sometime in his mid-life. He has been well known for his talent of being a literary gnome which he has humbly accepted. He strongly believes that his talent is a gift of god and God expects him to return the favour by appropriate employment of his talent in the service of God. When he turns blind, he is in a state of dilemma as to how to return the favors of God. This is answered by his inner self in the form of Patience, "God doesn't expect anything in return. He has created the world and the entire universe is at his disposal. God expects us to accept our fate, trust him wholly and surrender to his will. Even those who just stand and wait for him to chalk their lives also serve him as much as those who serve him actively with their talent".

Probably, my thought till date had got stuck halfway at John Milton's doubts and conceptions. I still believed that if God has conferred a virtue in any form to us, there is a purpose  to it. There must be a reason for us to be the chosen ones. Be it an artist, a writer, a scientist, a musician, an orator, thinker or whatever merit it may be, there must be a bigger purpose to it. 

Now, today, as I reread the poem and came to understand the last two lines of this enigmatic sonnet, I realize that the poet is actually hinting otherwise. In the eyes of God, there is no vile or virtue. There is no good or bad. There is nothing he expects us to do for the betterment of this universe. We are infact too trivial for that. Do I expect the letters that I type to do me any favor. The letters are just the representation of my thoughts. The same alphabet can be used in a rosy word or in an abuse. The destiny of that particular letter is in my hands. Just like that, he who has created us just wants us to sail along with the wind, trusting the wind-maker. 

My teacher definitely would have given a detailed account of the poem and its inner meaning. My thoughts must have stopped halfway and pondered on their own back then registering only half the meaning. It was only in my second innings of my life that I comprehended the transcendental message of the second half of the deep poem.