Some people just have a way with words. They say the mundane, the obvious and the known. Yet the way they put it is so not the ordinary and the heard. During my B School days Gulzar had come down for a guest lecture. And between expressions he cited something, the thought of which makes me feel nostalgic even to this day.
Don’t remember the lines but the thought goes thus:
Each morning the sunrise puts a penny in my little hands, a penny that the common mortal calls a day of life’s anecdote. Each day the penny gets wasted sometime unspent, sometimes wasted, mostly hurried, mostly busy and at other times threadbare. Sometimes it is mundane, sometimes wearied, habitually demanding and always crowded. My penny goes wasted; things that I dream of and are close to gratis remain still not owned or bought.
Someday I hope my wish comes true, all I wish for is a penny, a day that I could spend just on you.
