Oh cloudy sky, how many storms do you hold in your bosom ? What unrest do you stoically hold? How many slurs shall you continue to endure? You grow grim, you grow dark, my overcast sky, what burden do you hold? Mortals keep wishing for a sunny day or a starry night, disregarding the great griefs that you keep building.
And you vent, your thousand rainy tears ,filling a million rivers, nurturing a thousand lakes, refreshing us all. Even in your grief, we rejoice while you dissolve away in your pain.
I saw a cloudy sky once and it cried incessantly. It was not the rain that brings joy, it was the rain that floods making the earth to ache. There are some griefs that seem endless, growing stronger with the seeds of indifference. The pent up grief got liberated through tiny holes in the heart and I witnessed a thousand deaths, a million falls. So many clouds appear and they disappear. So many souls are wounded each day, so many souls die.With their death, a part of the world dies, a part of life ceases to exist. But no matter how much the spirit of the world shall ache, we shall continue to ignore the overcast sky. We need the bright sun to blind our blemishes while we continue to identify ourselves with the stars. Neither the sun nor the stars bear a true identity. The face of the clouds is one true reality.
Everytime you wish for the sun to shine, don’t forget to acknowledge the overcast sky. Don’t forget to acknowledge the souls which are wounded. Acknowledge the people you hurt. For in losing them, you lose a part of the world. The bright sun may also hurt you someday. Don’t judge the world that cries, don’t judge the world that sighs.
You too can be a cloud someday.
So before you wish for the sun to shine, don’t forget to smile at the cloudy sky.