"Life is a tale told by an idiot full of sound and fury signifying nothing," the famous lines from
Macbeth by Shakespeare are key when it comes to understanding of life. All the intellectuals preach in accordance with the kind of wisdoms that they are blessed with. For some life is nothing but an ephemeral, enactment on the edifice called stage. Whereas, for some it is an equivalent to river, whose essential nature is to flow. Some ascribed to the notion that it is an illusion, a trap laid down by Almighty to hoodwink the masses. The quandaries persist with all variants when another fact or value - judgement about human life and its precariousness comes to mind by Shakespeare, who in
King Lear declared : "As flies to wanton boys, are we to God; they kill us for their sport".
As if the life has no meaning; "It's a walking shadow, a poor player that struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard no more." The sound which was once pounding, loses its intensity after the snuffing of the brief, flickering candle - called life. And then it seems to be a story, not so interesting, not so accrediting, as if a tale told by an idiot, who is paid no heed.