She once told him that she would, if possible, trade the entire chaos of the universe for a moment’s silence with him – and as she was crying her heart out to him, his mind wandered elsewhere.

Later she asked him if he would ever remove her from his heart.

And he instantly said never.

Never - because she was never in it. Never a part of it. Never did he let her in.

It wasn’t her fault. But he never thought it was his either.

She asked him if he would ever forget her.

And he without hesitation said no.

No - because he never remembered her. Never a part of his memories. Never did he memorize her.

He had always been ungrateful. He was filled with emptiness. He left.

Only... she moved on from the sorrow of his leaving to live happily... yet puzzlingly he wanders the streets searching...

Searching not for her... but the source of her happiness that could obliterate the pain of the heartbreak she endured.


We see life as a sandglass, and all we can think about is the sand. We look at it and think that all we need to do is add more sand from a beach to it... never caring to notice what quality of sand matters and not the quantity of sand.

We always keep thinking about ways to extend time which is never ours to use or abuse, exploiting things for which we have no right to do so. Wandering the globe like nomads, all the while hoping for joy and burying regret.

Does someone have an abundance of pleasure and happiness? I’d gladly pay them all of my sand to buy some.