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The Memory

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The poem in a nutshell This poem has been composed in a trance of recollection. We all are learners throughout our entire life, no matter whoever we are and how old we are. Life itself is nothing but a book. We all are learners as well as teachers. Hence, we should have an obedient heart to learn from all and sundry.   The poem ā€“ ā€œThe Memoryā€ The azure vernal sky Is now cloud-laden. O hear! The roar of The thunder stirs me up With the sudden memory Of the tĆŖte-Ć -tĆŖte Between last eveningā€™s Bus-conductor and me.   I boarded the running bus; He took me up into the vehicle; Right then, the earthen cup Overbrimmā€™d with tea, Hot tea with sugar Got spilt onto his hand.   ā€œSorry, Uncle,ā€ I said, ā€œAre you hurt?ā€ He shook his hand. The matter was dropped.   A little while after, He came to me for Taking the fare; I was a bit scared. Then he looked up With a pair of Glistening eyes, and said, ā€œWhy do you take such...