How about being a tree someday?
One that stands, quietly,
And people come to tell stories -
Of their own.
How about being a night sky
That holds dreams of stars
Of different kinds; and the ones
Which fall, unfulfilled, still glowing.
How about being a random ocean?
Where waves meet and die,
In peace and as a wish
To be reborn and rebel, futile it be.
In darkness if you have ever seen happiness on a boy's face,
Who was collecting glow worms in a glass jar,
You will know,
He was only capturing moments.
Those, he will call life, when he grows up.
(To all my friends who came from around the world and spent time with me this Puja. To those who remain, we will live to tell another day.)
- 2016
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