That shivering which made everything still,
The fire is no more a symbol of hatred,
It gives away warmth,
It burns,
It destroys,
But, amidst the destruction,
While acting as a relief provider,
No one curses it.
I wonder,
how selfish is Human,
Criticizes when fire ruins,
Appreciates when fire ruins for his mere sake.
The dilemma from ages,
the beauty or the devastation.
For the same piece of work,
Some witness the glory,
some get satisfaction,
some enjoy the fete,
Probably,
That chunk of misfortune
is for the ones who were burnt
not for ones who relished the ashes.
