The Final Stroke of Twelve

Chapter 5

       "...Let's begin our first day's first class with the work of a universally well-known poet, playwright, actor, and the world's pre-eminent dramatist, William Shakespeare"

And that washed out all of Fay's regret for the rest of the day.

"Bard of Avon" Faven let out a curiously hushed whisper.

The Professor continued "Hi, I'm Angie and I will be your professor for the paper British poetry this semester"

Professor Angie was a tall vibrant woman in her early thirties with sleek black hair and the ecstasy Literature brought to her soul was like a widening ripple in a serene pond, that exaggerative, yet, that refreshingly beautiful.

She clasped her hands together in sheer excitement and reached into her bag "We will be starting with Sonnet 116, which is ..."

She plowed deep in her bag, took out a piece of paper and gave a disappointed face "...NOT prescribed in your syllabus" she finished her sentence in a thoughtful tone.

"But that doesn't mean we can't read it, considering the fact that this is our first class we can spare a little out-of-the-syllabus reading, right Students? Besides, this is one of my dearly loved poems"

She squealed with the joy of finding an agreeable excuse and began narrating the poem without further due.

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove.

Oh no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests, and is never shaken.

It is a star to every wand'ring bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come.

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me prov'd,

I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

William Shakespeare..."

Professor Angie read with so much passion as if the inked words were oxygen and she was gasping for breath! Faven was barely able to hold herself in. Truth to be told she kinda had second thoughts about taking Literature as her major, not because she loved it less but because she was afraid she won't be able to experience her love for words when there was someone trying to teach it to her instead of letting her feel it for herself. However, after hearing this professor read it she was falling in love with literature all over again, how could she not? All her insecurities flaked and disappeared into thin air and something told her they were never going to find their way back to her again.

Professor Angie took a deep sighing breath "Ah! Since we don't have this for our examination let's just exchange views. Now, I have a million different theories of my own on the concept of 'True Love', So I'd like to hear it from you. Anybody wants to go first?"