Abhishek Anicca
Your purpose
is to find fallen leaves of autumn and choose one big enough to write a letter to the bereaved heart of summer
Your purpose
is to knit a sweater of flowers and leave them on the graves of poets who forgot to breathe in the beauty of spring
Your purpose
is to wipe sweat from paper and make black letters bleed red without fire in the unforgiving darkness of winter
Your purpose
is to carve l,o,v,e into patterns and leave clues, anagrams and symbols of warmth on the droplets of rain
Your purpose
is to outlive one season and then another till you no longer calculate life using the fashionable norms of fear
ID: A road line with tall and old trees in Bengaluru.