| Lost Time -Rabindranath Tagore |
| On many an idle day have I grieved over lost time. But it is never lost, my lord! You have taken every moment of my life in your own hands. Hidden in the heart of things you are nourishing seeds into sprouts, buds into blossoms, and ripening flowers into fruitfulness. I was tired and sleeping on my idle bed and imagined all work had ceased. In the morning I woke up and found my garden full with wonders of flowers. |
SHIVPREET SINGH
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