Sometimes when children are matured,even if it seems harsh,
It's better they see truth..
That is what my parents have taught me anyway..
When the plate didnot have food,my mother never hid it from me,
When my father did not have enough to pay dues,he never hid from me..
It's harsh..
But it's truth..
Accepting,not accepting..
It depends on oneself..
It's not like this human being is omniscient..
Not like I can see future ahead,or past gone in this planet..
Not like I am a magician,who can cross the boundary of mind in whim..
Or a great spiritualist,who can sing epics..
What I say,it's truth about life,a journey..
It's harsh..
But it is a choice..
That the kingdom of him was not a peaceful kingdom left behind by his father..
But a kingdom,where there is peace even in the most turbulent time..
Without raising a weapon,without wearing a crown,
Without being born with a golden spoon,
It's just as it is..
What seems like moment is vast,what seems like vast is just a moment..
All that remains is..
Just some words unsaid..
Harsh it is,but sometimes it's just a lonely figure..
