In the sweetness of morning light, I’ve often experienced my heart expand with joy. In the dew of little things, the morning finds the heart and the heart finds its morning. Every little cell in the body comes alive and dances to the tune of the heart.
On one such sweet morning, I was walking the streets of White Town in Pondicherry. The sunbeams kissed my face and a sense of joy floated inside my heart.
In that joy, in that sweetness, I had unconsciously veered toward Sri Aurobindo Ashram. The sweet sound of Bangla filled the air. To me, there is nothing more sweet than the sound of Bangla. Maybe, it’s true for all of us … the first sounds that we hear after our birth always remain the sweetest sound.
