I saw an eyelash, lying aimlessly,
on the pink circle of my blue bedsheet.
A thought with earnest concern took birth,
in my otherwise grief-stricken mind,
"Whose wish it is, what wish it is,"
that I may have the potential to fulfil.
My belief says there has to have a reason,
of why it has travelled so far to reach me,
like the jovial seeds of munificent dandelion,
on being given the wings of freedom.
With tenderness, I place it on my palms,
gaze at its delicacy and blow it away,
making a wish to fulfill the wish of the one,
whose eye has shed their beloved.
Will the wish get fulfilled?
Or will it wander in this endless spiral,
of people like me who do not know
how to grant someone's wish?