Little Ones!

The ones whose souls only radiates immense truthfulness.

Little might they be. Little might their bodies be. But their hearts outrun the vastness of a mountain and weightlessness of a cloud floating along blowing winds.

These little creatures express truthfulness to their souls, to their being, to their needs and their likings.

While these creatures grow in size, the little slimy kidda thing in the head is often overburdened. We happen to hand over our lives to this little slimy thing sitting at the top, like the Remy ( A reference from the film, 'Ratatouille') of our lives. It hardly ever runs parallelly with the soul. The same heart happens to embody murky heftiness of a mountain and shrinks to the size of a droplet falling off the cloud that once floated freely in open air.

It's ironic how this so called 'grown up' happens to teach and preach, while the little ones learn.

Afterall, can a bud really be taught to grow into a beautiful blooming flower?