The End? Well, no.

It begins its journey as an egg,
Never knowing that the end is not the shell,
A caterpillar is then born,
Without much glamour, hardly any pomp.

Like every living being,
It desires to make its life bigger than life,
Like every living being,
It wants to make its life worth the while.

This one such egg she kept under her observation,
Not a science project, she still wanted to do it so.
The egg, then caterpillar,
She saw it grow.

The green caterpillar,
Beautiful in all its ways,
Crawled around
The leaves, the hay.

It knew its life would soon come to an end,
It felt very sad, yet wanting to live every moment.
One night it died to never come back,
But the story still completed itself, object intact.

For the caterpillar did not know that its soul was not dying,
It was now going to become a butterfly,
And bring beauty, still or flying.

The girl saw it all as if understanding something,
She gaped aghast trying to swallow the feeling.
She realised one may not know the worth of one’s own life,
But it certainly may be useful post the time.

The caterpillar died not knowing that it will be a butterfly next,
A pretty being spreading joy in its bequest.
She too now felt lesser sad about the turn of events in her life,
For now she had learnt from the circle of that life,

That the end of one thing
Does not have to be the end of everything,
That in fact the end of one thing
Is always the beginning of ANOTHER.



2 thoughts on “The End? Well, no.

  1. Beautifully written Stuti. In fact there is no end… life begins somewhere where we see the end.. so enjoy every moment


your chance to express(edD)

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s