Grains of sand

My mother, my sister and me at Saigon Zoo, 1995, Vietnam

I have lived a thousand lives and a thousand dreams, and these memories are like grains of sand falling on a great dune. I found myself wandering at the edge of a vast desert, looking into the infinite stretch of sand, dunes after dunes, shaped by the howls of Fate and History and the movements of Humanity.

Will our dreams become better than that of our predecessors? I contemplated on this question, and, poring over the stretch of sand, found a measure of equanimity.