There were messages. Too many!!! Those messages, all so touching, they all made up for the cake I missed today!!!!
I can feel them all as I stand alone in my room, my feet bare and the wooden floor is warm like summer breeze on my soles. I can feel all the love and affection from all wafting around me.
The thanks are soft on my tongue as I write them down upon small scraps of paper for each of you. The black ink smears when I write your name. I think it’s a tear, but I can’t tell, my eyes are too blurry. I let the piece of paper fall to the ground as I pick up another to write some more thanks.
I think, “No one will ever see them, but that’s not what matters.”
I eventually collect up enough papers to make a small heap on the ground. I pick them all up and hold my damp finger up to the dusk orange sky. I turn toward the orange glow and toss all the shreds up into the air. They all catch the air and fly down the street over the homes and hills hopefully to reach you all!!!!
I guess in the last moment of my life I shall say THANK YOU for the concern and love you all have shown me till the last breath I have. THANK YOU!!!!!
Today I just pray and wish I can just be a simple human and nothing great. During my school days there were two poems which always touched me. One was “The Hero” by Rabindranath Tagore and other “If” by Rudyard Kipling.
Today I pray, whatever happens but do make me follow what Rudyard said in his poem and I know I have many with me who will help me to see I don’t stray away from any of them!!!! Thanks Again to you all for being there always!!! Here’s the poem below….
If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or, being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;
If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with triumph and disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with wornout tools;
If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breath a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on”;
If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with kings – nor lose the common touch;
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you;
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run –
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man my son!
– Rudyard Kipling