What is there to heave a sigh of relief? At the end of the day, all scores are settled. And amicably so. All dues are paid and repaid. And in full. What is there to regret? Nothing so much. Still it pinches, albeit. Yet there is nothing much to repent. Are the days are numbered? And so soon? There is much to do and to be done. What is there to feel so undone? What has been done cannot be undone. There is nothing to feel undone. And as such. Daily diary is wrapped in dust, mysterious dust. It is burning in sparkling fire, as though. Fire and fume. Fire and fume comes together hand in hand. Life is jerking fearlessly. What for? All is wrapped in that mysterious fire. Will that fire ever be extinguished? Will that mysterious dust ever be settled. At the end of the day it again the beginning, the beginning of an end. It is an endless odyssey. A journey into the eternal world, into the eternity...into the immortality.

Categories: Monologue [t]

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