I really want to be the warm yellow light of winter morning sun that can warm the hearts of everyone I love. I believe, one of my favorite poets had similar thoughts. He wrote about a young boy who wanted to be sunshine.
It was a winter morning just before Christmas Day and there was the warm yellow light of the morning sun. I along with a dear friend of mine visited the Bangalore Palace.
I don’t know why the mansion with a mix of Tudor and Scottish Gothic architecture pulled me. Was it the warmth of the morning sun … or was it the warmth of its yellow colored interiors … or was it a message from the universe?
Early Christmas morning, when the warm yellow light caressed my face, I heard Nirendranath Chakraborty was no more. But he left behind the warm yellow light and showed me the doorway to warmth.
