Interview With A Grain Of Sand

As I trudge across the Thar desert, western India, up and down the waves of the undulating dunes, my inquisitive sight is focused on their shining surface. One tiny quartz grain of sand catches my eye. I feel the grain is ready for a dialogue with me. So I ask : Where do you come from? Sand grain (SG) : Far from the desert there is a rocky terrain where tireless time weathers the rocks, produces the sand grains, and you see me as one of them. Me : How long are you here? SG : I don’t remember how long, but it seems a long time I have been slipping in what I construe as a hour glass. Me : Your body is rotund, you can’t walk. How have you come to where you are now? SG : As the storm blows, I along with others have flown in sand mist on the wings of the desert wind to settle on the shining slopes of the dunes. Me : On these slopes dances mystifying mirage in the company of your reflective friends. Do you like this? SG : No. It deceives the thirsty travelers. I have a pure crystalline heart, I don’t dishearten them by making misleading mirage. Me : Truly, you have a heart aglow with wisdom and sympathy. With this kind of mental make-up you must be bored being stuck in the desert dune. SG : Yes. I want to roll down free, dance with the rhythm of the dune ripples, listen to the hot music of the scorched wind, and in moonshine waltz with the cool night’s beguiling breeze. Me : If you’re made free, the searing squall will blow you away. Would you like it? SG : Yes. I’ll fly to the fervid fold of the opalescent oasis and sink suffused with serenity in my blissful core that the rage of the desert sun can’t burn anymore. I’ll mark a moment at the end of time. Me : Wish you best of luck. Thank you for the interview.