I'm Hindu.

I remember putting my hand into a pot of boiling water for tea
My mother shrieking and getting it out
running it under cold water
getting ice
using frozen dough
toothpaste
She diligently tried everything but
by evening
the skin on the back of my hand was so wrinkled
I could have fooled anyone of my age
if I hadn't had the tiny hands of a four year old.

I learnt early on that you can't stop the wrinkles from appearing when they must.

And when they do, they bring pain.

Physical.

With a sense of losing of the wholesomeness within you,
Inch by inch of skin
Fold by fold of time
and time itself, as it unfolds
skin by skin
healing
makes whole again.

I learnt soon after, that time heals.

My hands are no longer wrinkled.

But in due course of time I'll be there again.

And be healed yet again because,
Souls, they transcend time.

Maybe I'll get seventh time lucky
when the flames are lit
and I am burnt this time.