True stories: I make way
|Photo: BBC India|
I am a father and this is my job. I cannot just raise the arm with presumed authority and with a stretched hand pointing the finger at the horizon.
Because the already written and conquered goal is old stuff, and because it would be too easy for anxiously travelers behind to follow the worn out footprints. I would dare to say useless.
The peaks lacking of flags and memory are made of not yet pronounced dreams and hopes.
If there is no beginning of the way, like the end, the future path greedily awaits pencil and courage.
It waits for me...