Parallel End

It was raining that day,

Right through the day,

Into the night,

It was raining that day.

It reminded me of Aaji,

Of her presence and her stories.

As I thought more of her,

I thought more of her stories,

Of why did they end like the way she wanted them to?

Or why did they end to teach us a lesson?

Sitting at the window,

I thought more of her stories,

Of why did the tiger agree to get back to the cage,

Of how could the Brahmin speak like a human-being,

To that tiger, who had just jumped out of the cage,

Of why didn’t the tiger protest?

Or may be eat that Brahmin up?

Why couldn’t the tiger protest?

Aaji was not there to answer my questions,

Some questions, stay as questions.

With no answers, none whatsoever.

Dear Aaji,

Rest In Peace.