We bequeath ourselves to it each time and upon its realisation—we are fettered by the chains of happenstance and incidents,

A feeling more intensely and elaborately felt,

previous in its time— it precedes each time and hits with a greater intensity than once ever felt,

An expectation taking a wrong expedition,

belonging everywhere and to each one,

it has its own time,

to move and pass through;

for such time has to pass by,

it is a word that carries weight of a heavier thing than we used to know.

– Shweta Kher

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