shwetha wanted things to keep on going, oh no, she din’t want them to slow down ever she wanted them to go on and on and on and on but things don’t do that, things fall apart and things do come to an end but shwetha always took pleasure in the fact that things start again anyway, and the world keeps turning and shwetha keeps doing things, she took classes and she gave classes and she ran three ngos and one school and she looked after her kids and she was always available to baby sit her aunty’s daughter as well and she chaired meetings and cooked and travelled three hours in the weekends to look after her ailing mother and she decided she couldn’t stop and she wouldn’t stop because after all, the world never stopped and even when shwetha forgot what it was like to breathe freely, even when her last breaths came she still din’t stop. Because she couldn’t. She had forgotten how. And the world continued turning.
(I read in somebody’s blog about how they didn’t like full stops. Look what that did to me. ::shakes head ruefully::)