Have you ever noticed how a glowworm moves? You have? Congrats. You haven't? Kindly get out of your sense-forsaken city for once! Anyway sticking to the topic at hand, there's a certain rhythm in which it glides through air. From one leaf to another. From one branch to another. From one hand into a merciless glass bottle. Sometimes the poor creature even confuses summer with December and decorates an entire tree with wireless lighting. Magical indeed. They may sound benevolent but glowworms are classy beings too. They are like the Harvard-educated folks amongst them insects. They roam around with a glint in their ass. The superiority complex is visible but who's complaining? Also, unlike other identified flying objects, it's never in a hurry. In fact, they are like the fixed slo-mo version of Mother Nature. Try catching a butterfly with its over-sized wings and you'll know the difference between the two hi-flyers. One is nocturnal Muhammad Ali the Old while the other, diurnal Usain Bolt the Young. However, glowworms are wiser by default. They don't like publicity. Poets rarely notice their presence. Despite all of that, they teach us an invaluable lesson: When your butt is on fire, keep moving.