I remember the fluidity and the grace,
With which you wipe the sweat from your face.
Peeling orange skins to powder,
Cracking open mango stones.
Tossing almonds to street children,
Rolling poppadums in the sun.
No brittleness in your attitude,
Accepting life, quietly sublime.
Watching the shape of the ashoka tree,
Pausing-then you simply carry on.
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