“The connection between two souls is irrational. It cannot be defined nor explained to anybody.

At the same time, so is the connection between a body and a soul. Body is the outerwear of a part of our
soul which is wore until the time it wears off. The body takes soul to places which make it even more
vulnerable; wondering whether wearing the cloak of flesh and bones was right in the first place? You
might be wondering that this is a matter of irrelevance, but always understand. Life is fragile and needs
to be handled with utmost care. The soul won’t think twice before disrobing herself, but you can when
you make stupid decisions” the lifeless body warned as the human attached to it stood solemn looked
beyond the grave. The ragged clothes with shoes chewed off by rats in an unwanted race. Hair
distraught and hiding his eyes which are closed for now. Lips sealed tightly enough that not even a
whisper could go across. He looked down at the grave and stood still.

“Care enough to learn, that nobody would look down at you until it’s a matter of their survival.
You are at the top of the eco-system, but you forget that the life begins in a self squeezed virtual reality
which gets thinner and thinner by consumption of your kind. As the space reduces, the ones attached to
it disappear as well. How long do you think the space would not consume you? The only person who
would care about you is already dead. Do you think you would get a second chance? Ask yourself, if an
iceberg melts down, will it be frozen enough again to become the same? Your realization is as late as the
development of your kind”

The lifeless body attached to the human faces the grave. The stone laid ahead composed red
bricks which are haphazardly put together. It did carry a quote, “Carrying unaccomplished goals to the
grave, hardly disappointed”.

“Here is a monkey with a key attached to its back. It reacts as and when the key is twisted and
turned. Now stop and think. That monkey is a human, that key is his consciousness. It is twisted and
turned across by an external force, human or inhuman, which coerces it to react. There are close to a
billion monkeys across the face of earth which has their own set of reactions. One or maybe two
reactions put together two billion reactions which keep the globe living. These reactions can bring joyous
environment, but also can vandalize the surroundings. But nobody cares since the monkeys are in no
power to control either the key or the situation, or are they? Think about it. The next time you radicalize
your power in a direction, does it impact anything else apart from you in a good or bad way. If the
answer is no, then you are completely fit to be a monkey with an attached key.”

The grass underneath the human’s feet suddenly springs up, lush and green. The shoes which
were torn cover themselves up. The otherwise ragged clothes clean themselves up and the hair which
resembled tension, moved away. The eyes attempted to open themselves, but were unable to. The
lifeless body looked towards his attached human.

“Crushing anomalies to an unrealized state cannot result into to clarity towards attainment.
Anomalies may or may not mean spiritual only. It could had been as simple as ‘Why does the drainage
gets blocked every few days? Why are my kids not listening to me? Why am I not being preferred in the
place of that boot-licking ass-hole? Why is my favorite team screwing up every weekend to make my life
even worse? Why is the dog not getting potty-trained at all?’ When these questions are not answered
and you ask yourself an even tougher question like, “why is life unfair to me?” Always know, you might
have asked the question, but you are not prepared to listen to the answer, let alone accept it. However,
the answer does come down upon you either like a certain dew drop or a high tide.
 The grass goes back to its original state and so does the human. The lifeless body tries to move
his hands, but unsuccessfully withdraws. It looks around but nobody is there to help it. The human
meanwhile looks up from the grave and towards the sky. The hair spread across, but the eyes are yet
firmly closed. The lifeless body looks back to the grave.

“When you land in a soup, you turn towards the sky wondering who would take you out of it.
Why? Are you entitled to be rescued every time you are in trouble? You might not be in control of the
situation you are about to face, but if you are not ready enough to face it headfirst, then there is no
moving away from the soup for a long time. Even if you were ready, there was a 99.99% chance of you
failing. Your failure gives you an intangible asset which matters the most to a human kind; experience.
You could have failed and gained an experience out of it. Each experience enhances the capacity to face
more situations till the time the clock does not strike twelve. Success was never a parameter to growth.
Confusion leads to questions and questions lead answers which could have taken you level up. You can
materialize success, but in no ways known to humans, can the experience factor be materialized.
Experience is the matter which leads to creation of mass which can never be destroyed. That’s something
you could have carried down there, only if you had the nerve to be exposed”

The lifeless body was interrupted by an uncertain breeze which caused the hair of the human to
part away revealing his face. His eyes were still closed, but the draft did cause the barely wet under eyes
to be dry. It was a matter of moments until the breeze resigned and the partition of his hair met closed
itself.

“The alchemy of life is only love. Love towards everything which is either human or inhuman. No
priority, no attachment and no expectations at all. There is no such thing as give and take. Materials
need barter, sentiment does not. Next time when you hand over a piece of material to somebody,
remember what you give is not important; but the emotion attached to it is what makes the barter
worthwhile. Cherishing the fact that you have been successful enough to accumulate a lot during a
lifetime and give it away as a part of charity is as good as being looked upon as a God in order to sell few
papers”

The human till now had not moved an inch away from where he stood. His hands are dry and unnerved.
The body attached to it gives itself a shake and looks at the grave.

“If only, there was time… to mend the broken

I could have saved you, even if you were taken
Ignoring the fact, that others would help you out
They paralyze to lead you to an insidious doubt

Have you been compromised on the face value?

Like, ‘this person can own any challenge thrown at it’
As unfair it may sound, they did utter the truth
Acknowledge the demons as you may deem fit.

Caressing the flesh wounds, you kept crumbling down

Inability of the mind, they said, maid you wear that crown
Symbolic to failure attained with great deal of self-deprecation
No one is to blame except you, for your own abomination
You looked across the hallway; you looked at the agendas sinister
You looked within the meal they served, also the empty canister.
You looked at someone you deeply loved.
Who didn’t find a way, so had you shoved.
You looked in the white snow, you looked during the fall
When nothing turned up, you looked Above all.
But tell me, if nobody answered your prayer
You could have looked within, instead of the empty air.

Nothing was unsolvable at the instance first,

It was only matter of your willingness, your thirst
In the end, accepting yourself is a sacrifice
Get up, brush yourself and roll again that uncertain dice.
The clock didn’t stop, the unruly hands still ticked on
They kept on ticking forever, even after you were gone.

Survival is something you thought for and attachments you yearned,

Bonding with yourself leads to immortality; something you never learned.
Gathered few chalices and a shining mirror of your dusty wall
Thrown into a chamber with your distant memories they maul

Come together now and tread on this journey unknown

Have your slate wiped and clean, nothing left now that you own
See the horizon approaching, watching the sun which doesn’t shine
Resembling the purpose of the life famished, just like mine.

“What is that man doing there?” a visitor at the graveyard asked the caretaker. “That guy. He
visits here every single day and stands near that section. “Why is he carrying that puppet?” the visitor
further enquired. “Was a ventriloquist, I guess” the caretaker answered without any heed. “Has anyone
of his family died?” the visitor was concerned by now. “I don’t know” he replied with a hint of irritation in
it. “Then why is he standing there? And who is buried in that grave?” to which the caretaker simply
replied “Nobody.”