When i was a child, i wrote about life on a little peice of paper. Folded it in two halves and kept it in a small box. I hid it somewhere in the garden, to be dug out someday when i feel i have lost my way. It was sacred, a secret of my life as a child. Today i feel that i have lost my way, yet i seem to have no intention to dug out the box and see what i had written on it!! Maybe i get carried away with life.
Life's own ways of unfolding things, i guess. But someday i will open the box and see, where i have been heading for. Life, indeed !!
