A Pebble
I wish I was a smooth pebble lying on a roadside wilderness. Watching everything objectively. An object. A small hand would have picked me and felt my smoothness on cheek and may have carried me home. A mother's hand would have thrown me out of window, on to the city road. A bored leg would have kicked me and carried me along. Thus I would have travelled along...I don't want to be a milestone. I just wish I were a pebble...
1999
Leaf, girl and the artist
All the leaves have fallen...
I look at one small leaf on that lone standing tree and wonder whether its painted...and whether my life truly depends on it. I remember a story of a girl who lived looking at the painted leaf and the artist who died while painting the leaf. Did the artist deceive the girl?
1999
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