The clouds are filled with sorrow and sadness, sighing at the joys and sorrows of separation and reunion in three lives. I hold the incense with bare hands, burn it with devotion, play a complex tune, dance a song, and weave an earthly dream. I just hope that when you wake up, you will still smile and be at peace; I just hope that when I look back, I can see you, stand under the banyan tree, and call me softly: Aye, I am back.