What does one say
when season changes,
another birthday comes and goes,
friend departs,
crow that perches on your balcony every day stops doing so without a warning,
neighbourhood friendly cat who trusted you enough to kitten in your house dies,
stray dog you see every day is without a leg one morning,
a booming (and yet soothing) voice that defined your world, however small and insignificant, is silenced...
Not for me, Dylan Thomas's "Rage, rage against the dying of the light".
Instead only the acceptance of, to paraphrase Sadanand Rege (सदानंद रेगे),
"आमचीही वही कोरी होत चाललीय...".
The only consolation:
"भीमसेन कसले मेले? भीमसेन गातचि बसले"
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