Sometimes it feels like the fire from the hell is ready to gobble me. Yet, something inside me cannot take that ghastly sight very seriously, you know. Isn’t it a beautiful sight to see the fire burning down what is old, what is dead, what has run its course and begging for a new form? I know the inferno may consume the “me” inside me soon. May be it will be much more painful than any pain I can imagine. But wouldn’t there be heat for the cold nights, for those who couldn’t afford a roof? May be the beauty, the simplicity, the innocence is the fire. May be my surrender to it will release what is old, what is dead inside that I harbour. Yes, it is gobsmacking. But may be that is just an illusion from a distance. For peeping inside the beastly existence that I am, I have seen just an innocent toddler riding a see-saw, giggling!
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