Love me long
and treat me right
~
It won't feel wrong*
*to please you all night

I want to go back to my past
When tame pigeons of joy nested on my eaves
And I could hear their crooning
With the sweetness of love outpouring

I want to go back to my past
When innocent instincts ruled my heart
And I ran after every call from the woods or bush
Mesmerized by the whistles of the oriole and the thrush

I want to go back to my past
When every rainbow and every peacock feather
Ignited curiosity in me as a child
And colored my imagination wild

I want to go back to my past
When, with friends, I sat in the mango grove
And savored the ripe juicy mangoes
Careful not to let the pulp drip down our mouths

I want to go back to my past
When we strolled along the sandy strands
Watching the wild waves fray
And cooled by the kiss of spray

I want to go back to my past
When we had watched at night
A hundred fireflies dancing around the neem
Wondering if they were stars fallen from heaven’s seam

I want to go back to my past
When, like breeze, we ran over the meadows
Looking for the bleating lamb
Singing in chorus, ‘Mary had a little lamb’

I want to go back to my past,
When life appears a trying test
With ‘the slings and arrows of an outrageous fortune’
And as and when I feel so desperately alone!

I think a part of me have died. Is dying. Will die.
I think it happens to all of us. We're all living different lives,
but every breath we inhale and exhale again brings us closer to the same ending. Death.
That is our shared, final destination. Nevertheless, this other individual death happens through all of our life.
Someday we just realize that we are not the same person as we used to be; as we were just yesterday.

Think back a year. Who were you there?
Not the same as you find yourself to be today, I am sure.
Our naivety, our innocence on this world dies.
For every day passing by.
When one stops, dead-end in his or hers track to wonder about this,
this phenomenon,
they will always be looking for a cause,
a beginning.

For me?
It all began almost 8 years ago. And 5. And 4 years ago.
I bet it seems odd.
You cannot have 3 beginnings to your death?
You can have all the beginnings you want,
because it is a different piece of you, of your mind, every time.
The You who is dying, is sacrificing itself
so the newborn You can live.

An improved You,
more knowledgeable, graceful, stronger.
Yet flawed, since stronger in this case means colder and more calculating. Tougher. Closed.
Yet with the face of a newborn, ready to explore the world.
With a fragile mind and a fragile heart.