By Anannya Mondal
As a child, a cricket taught me,
That when I wished upon a star,
My heart’s desires would come true.
So often, I have looked for that unreachable star,
To ask her where I could find that friend,
Who I seemed to have lost.
But the wishing star remained hidden from me,
Perhaps I was too preoccupied,
With life’s routine and chaos,
With running to a destination,
With trying to outdo myself and reach that peak.
Along the way, I found success,
I found people and learned the way of the world,
That one does really need a penny for a spool of thread,
But I always felt that something was incomplete.
I missed my friend, the one who understood the language of the stars,
My friend and the wishing star remained elusive.
One cloudy night, I sat under the moon,
And listened to Le Cygne.
I felt the moving melody of the dying swan,
How she fought for life with dignity,
Despite knowing that she was on the verge of death.
I marveled at the spirit of the swan,
Realizing how little I knew about life.
Suddenly the clouds parted and I saw her,
The Wishing Star shining gloriously.
I was thrilled that at last I could ask her for my heart’s desires,
I looked at her, feeling the soft glow of hope.
She looked beautiful but sad,
Like a swan that glides alone on a lake.
I found that when the moment presented itself,
I could not ask her for anything.
And at last I understood,
The dying swan’s last wish.
The tenet behind the star’s appearance,
To give up living in fear of self-imposed shackles,
And embrace the life granted to us every day,
To live with grace and kindness,
To value the right people and things,
To take pleasure in life’s simple joys,
To be true to myself and the dying swan.
Now I see the wishing star,
Glimmering benevolently,
Promising that one day I will find my friend again,
And that she will be there to guide me,
Whenever she feels that I need to be reassured of eternal truths.