<p>It is a common sight when you visit any monument in our country, protected or otherwise. You are bound to notice the names of the visitors etched on the pillars, walls, carvings, etc., disfiguring the art and serenity with the sole objective of commemorating oneself. But least of all, they don’t realise that, in the majority of cases, we are ignorant of the great king or queen who built the monument itself and who has time to remember the etched names on the walls. It always inflicts on my conscious a deep wound when I witness an architectural grandeur disfigured by invaders, conquerors who are bent upon destroying a glorious civilisation. Not long ago, Bamiyan Budda, a 55-metre-tall, 1500-year-old carving of Buddha, was bombarded to pieces in Afghanistan by the Taliban, erasing a legacy.</p>.Remembering the Kargil triumph.<p>During the recently concluded Cricket T20 World Cup tournament in the mesmerising West Indies, a famous critic happened to visit an unlikely venue in no way connected with the unfolding intensely competitive sport. It happened to be a non-descript cemetery in Bridgetown where the cricketing great Molcom Marshall is laid to rest. Molcom Marshall played for the West Indies between 1978 and 1991 in 81 Test matches, scalping 376 wickets, a world record for his time. He was a dreaded fast bowler, instilling fear in batsmen of his time who faced his fiery deliveries. He played a pivotal role in the 1979 and 1983 One-Day World Cups.</p>.<p>The reporter who visited the cemetery was pained to see the grave of the legendary cricketer in shambles, untended, uncared for, and in utter disdain. None of the cemetery caretakers or the concerned parish were even aware of the accomplishments of the West Indies cricket hero of yesteryear. Every human being strives hard to leave an indelible mark on his family, relatives, friends, surroundings, and society, and one leaves no stone unturned to achieve it without even realising how futile it is. Your performance of the day may be lauded but will be seldom remembered when you are off the stage, rendering all your efforts in carving out an immortal space in posterity nothing but futile. Remember, you are seldom remembered after your time.</p>
<p>It is a common sight when you visit any monument in our country, protected or otherwise. You are bound to notice the names of the visitors etched on the pillars, walls, carvings, etc., disfiguring the art and serenity with the sole objective of commemorating oneself. But least of all, they don’t realise that, in the majority of cases, we are ignorant of the great king or queen who built the monument itself and who has time to remember the etched names on the walls. It always inflicts on my conscious a deep wound when I witness an architectural grandeur disfigured by invaders, conquerors who are bent upon destroying a glorious civilisation. Not long ago, Bamiyan Budda, a 55-metre-tall, 1500-year-old carving of Buddha, was bombarded to pieces in Afghanistan by the Taliban, erasing a legacy.</p>.Remembering the Kargil triumph.<p>During the recently concluded Cricket T20 World Cup tournament in the mesmerising West Indies, a famous critic happened to visit an unlikely venue in no way connected with the unfolding intensely competitive sport. It happened to be a non-descript cemetery in Bridgetown where the cricketing great Molcom Marshall is laid to rest. Molcom Marshall played for the West Indies between 1978 and 1991 in 81 Test matches, scalping 376 wickets, a world record for his time. He was a dreaded fast bowler, instilling fear in batsmen of his time who faced his fiery deliveries. He played a pivotal role in the 1979 and 1983 One-Day World Cups.</p>.<p>The reporter who visited the cemetery was pained to see the grave of the legendary cricketer in shambles, untended, uncared for, and in utter disdain. None of the cemetery caretakers or the concerned parish were even aware of the accomplishments of the West Indies cricket hero of yesteryear. Every human being strives hard to leave an indelible mark on his family, relatives, friends, surroundings, and society, and one leaves no stone unturned to achieve it without even realising how futile it is. Your performance of the day may be lauded but will be seldom remembered when you are off the stage, rendering all your efforts in carving out an immortal space in posterity nothing but futile. Remember, you are seldom remembered after your time.</p>
