transition

My eyes alighted on scalawags and street urchins slithering, sussing out the worst in the Gods of people, of mine, their sweets and then fawning the worst. What happens when light yields to gloom? I lived in a kitschy squalid alley. But there is a hope that light splutters into life. Tearing the night asunder the city of the Sun sprawled across the horizons. The sky slathered with buttery gobbets of clouds burgeoning into the garden of hope. The tide turned and the day embarks on a newer voyage. A new awareness asserted itself – light is never at odds with the dark. Nights are not nefarious. They dispense the largesse, the bounties of shelter and rest as these essentials are procured by making a clean break with the vision and leaving it all in the hands of nature. To be one with the frailties steers us towards strength. Surrender and it will take care of itself.


FOWC

Published by Smita Ray

Smita Ray is a mother of two lovely kids and hails from the northeastern town of India Gorakhpur. Her perpetual displeasure arising from the hypocrisy in the society underneath the semblance of religion, culture as well as the conditioning for compliance urged her to put down the impressions in her mind. In her spare time, she likes to have some culinary adventures with her kids.

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