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Rene was composing a bangla song. After decades and motivations distant from a light year, he truly tried. Just with one concept. Photosynthesis is not something photogenic. Certainly not an easy subject, not quite popular that fame is blessed about.

"I think you need a break. Simply try an easier path."

Shanta wanted to cheer him up.

"Let me brief you with a little scenario. A written up verse should not be a price tag , nor should it be anything other than a equidistant line that fails to understand occupation and occupied territory. By the time the second line will emerge,  I am tired. So awfully tired!" Rene shrugged.

“Find an agency. That will help you adopt children from both 

sides.”

Shanta tried to smile. She had a sad note to pass. Their only child would be dropped out as they found him smoking and in other felons too. She could not sleep for the last four days.

He looked her in the eye.

An uncomfortable stair… a staircase…with rise, with tread.

But give it all you got, Then you will find God in drops of rain.

In nothingness. God does not need us. We need Him.

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