Three tiny tots climbed the sharing auto I was travelling in today morning along with their mother. Two of them were girls. Seeing their innocent faces and the whisperings of confidentialities between themselves as if it was a State secret, I sighed. How beautiful is childhood ! And I hoped that the girls would turn out to be ugly when they grow up to be maidens. I hope they don't get mired in this world of cruelty, uncertainty, fear and insecurity, and remain ugly and happy; may be disturbed only about their ugliness of face but not fear the consequences of their beauty. You think I am cruel? No. I just saw a photo of Aarushi Talwar and feeling sad. Such a beautiful girl lost her life for what? Who knows? If she had lived, may be she would have been an achiever. A life nipped young.
'Caught in a strange land in a net with other butterflies, I'm a caterpillar yet undecided to remain a caterpillar and perish or turn into a beautiful butterfly and live a life full of joy.' Readers don't laugh. But I came up with this one night recently when I was travelling in a train. I tossed and turned, not being able to sleep, upset over unexplainable things and frustrated over events not in my control. Then it occurred to me that our life and its usefulness depends on our decisions -- whether to remain a crawling caterpillar whose existence otherwise is either ignored by all and sundry or who is cursed for just being there and thrown out with a stick, or to develop wings of life and metamorphose into a beautiful butterfly whom everybody adores for its beauty and colour, for its flitting liveliness, for its service to the flower's pollination... I thought that I should be a butterfly, of service to others, but then again I thought, anyway, who really cares?
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