Ashok’s poem dwells on a lone flame, it flickers low, whispering the ancient truth: every life must dim before it dazzles again. Decay is just rebirth disguised.
The flickering flame
With a dim light
It looks perfect....
As if the oil in life’s lamp
Getting exhausted soon?
In disguise ...
Is it a doom?
Or is it a boon?
Because I remember ...
After birth, there’s growth
Ultimately followed by decay
Aren’t they very common?
A positive acceptance, yes
“Is it not,” the right option?
Picture design by Anumita Roy
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