When i die, let it be on the shores of Ganga
When the sun sets and the leaves droop.
The sun sets daily with no wails, no cries
only to rise tomorrow anew.
Let me rise daily not as the record of the past
but of a nostalgia lost somewhere beneath the rubble of the day.
The Ganga flows ...
with no one to mourn it's departure
Let me stay ...
not as a monotonous grief but as a song that refreshes time itself.
Leaves bloom, droop and drop to be the food for the earth.
Let me bloom, droop, then drop to be the fodder of the lame.
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