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“I sought the fire of longing, and so I found the lily-brimming valley. In it was my own thirst for a light that would set me free. So, I found the harp that kept me singing with pain stinging, and the bed of thorns became a bed of roses. So, these ribs sunken in grief sensed the river of life again. So, I found flowers in the valley again.” — Jayita Bhattacharjee
I sought the fire of longing, and so I found the lily-brimming valley. In it was my own thirst for a light that would set me free. So, I found the harp that kept me singing with pain stinging, and the bed of thorns became a bed of roses. So, these ribs sunken in grief sensed the river of life again. So, I found flowers in the valley again.