August 14, 2009


What is life?

Is it the flash of a firefly in the night?

Is it the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime?

Is it the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset?

When I was alone on a starlit night,
When by chance I saw the migrating birds in autumn descending on a grove of junipers to rest and eat;
When I saw children in a moment when they are really children,
When I knew love in my own hearts
When I heard an old frog land in a quiet pond with a solitary splash

I realised the evolving entity, the demanding body, the surrounding pride all constituted for the artificial man in me.

Whom I trusted to understand me never understood
Whom I believed to be my own, never thought so
Whom I felt to by mine, was not to be
Whom I cherished to be my soul, has wandered
Whom I...
As the solitude hunted me, the new idol got created, with pain of lost trust, love and the wandered soul deep buried. I am Shattered and broken beyond repair.

But the misty mirror had one story to tell:
Life is an endless struggle full of frustrations and challenges, but eventually you find a hair stylist you like.

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