I cursed the power cut, which left us dark in the night,
He said, let us take this opportunity to savour the moonlight.
I complained, when it started to rain,about getting drenched,
He asked me to think about the million plants, their thirst getting quenched.
The street paintings, I said, were waste of money, though they were good,
He reminded me that the painting got the artist a day’s food.
I sometimes saw a glass half full, or just a quarter,
He didn’t try seeing anything, he just filled the glass with water
-shrinidhi kalwad
13.11.09
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