My Grandfather…
Meeting my grandfather after a long time was an emotional experience. Old age had finally caught up with him. Watching him cry and laugh in the same sentence saddened me a little and made me realise that we had less time in this world to grow, learn and experience.
Soon the flower that once bloomed would wither.
The plant would still keep on living with another one ready to take its place.
Only the flower that would bear the fruits of its labor would live on to be realised into a seed and finally grow into another plant.
So what would you want to be?
Just a flower or the one that produces a seed to grow into another plant?
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