If I could touch a cobra’s venom
And turn it into honey
If I could make a madman sane
Or make death appear funny
If I could pat a hungry lion
And make it walk away
If I could make a blind man see
Or make an atheist pray
And then, if this makes me happy,
And others full of glee
I haven’t reached near the end,
There’s a long way left for me
For most things already are,
As they ought to be
I can’t write someone else’s script,
I can only see
And play my part, the best I can,
In Act Two of three
Kishore Asthana