He held out his hands to me.

In one hand he held an ounce of gold.

I saw this first.

In the other hand, he held a common flower.

And I felt he would ask me a question, then.

Because there was a question in his eyes. And mischief, too.

“Are you asking me to choose?” I said.

His silence answered well and true.

I saw this first.

And when I saw this, the ounce of gold transformed.

It became a knife.

This was no common moment. This was not a conversation. It was not teaching.

I knew I had already stepped off a cliff. One cannot undo it.

“The flower is more compelling to me.”, I said.

The question in his eyes dissolved. Something else, now, was there.

And the knife became water. Not merely water.

The other kind.

And in the water, I saw the »changing reflection of the flower. Of the sky. Of my own mind…

“The water is more compelling.” I said.

He smiled then, with empty hands.