October-2004 (Kolkata)
Every grain of sand is created in a thousand years,
And yet it rests on a beach as worthless, lifeless as it could,
Serving the purpose of its creation,
Frozen, abandoned on a beach.
Then think,
A million years it must have taken to create a single soul.
Each one having their destiny,
Each one having a goal,
But before we find our destiny or goal,
The Lord wants us to know of love
And finally entrusts us to a mother’s womb,
Before we come into this world.
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