The question

The handshake seemed apologetic after an evening which had been beautiful. The hug, though, was missing. It hung in the air, long after the rickshaw had gone. There was a question about why it never happened. No regret, but the question remained unanswered. It is still to be asked.

Why fear?

What makes anger or fear a worthy weapon as compared to, say, happiness?

Fight. Against?

Who are we fighting today? Why are we fighting?

Living the question

i am living the question now