Victory is clichéd, you’ll say,
I know, but let me try it differently.
Let me see how can I pen down,
My ideas about victory or triumph.
Two hands reject their grudges and differences,
And merge themselves in a single dot,
Celebrating achievements and sharing miseries,
Thereby, ushering in the winning of humanity.
Again, when the self decides to spread himself,
From a tiny dot to two benevolent and compassionate hands,
Radiating happiness to the world outside,
Hurray! Victory can’t be ignored or blocked.
And, thus, the victory over the self,
Is the biggest victory ever possible,
Most disregard it, I know not why,
For a dot we’re in this mighty universe,
We’ll also become one when we die,
So why this fuss? Why this show?