years and years of listening to desires, the soul accumulated the body and the mind. They would look into my eyes and say it on my face. ‘What have you become?’, They ask. I have nothing to say to them. My soul is still in touch with the nature outside. The dark green leaves and the big old trees. During extreme cold when the breeze caresses my warm face, I could feel my heart melt. They are in utter disbelief. With consistent efforts they prepared the mould. I am either too little or too big for the mould. My dishevelled demeanour and unpredictable questions shake them from their footings, but they still won’t let their soul come out. Their bodies are painted in plastic, and mind wrapped in fear. To touch that is beyond the sense. To see that is beyond the vision. To live beyond life. They don’t know. Yet, they are important. We are in this together. I am alone. I do have fear with me. What is life? I wonder at all times. They simply don’t care.

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