What happens to words? No, not the ones written down or tweeted or documented in other forms. I mean the words that are spoken out, either softly or out loud. Where do they go? Do they accumulate somewhere? Or do they reincarnate themselves at will? How far can the wind carry the burden of words? Is there a reason why humans are blessed with languages while other living beings are recognized by their calls? Or is it actually a curse? Besides, we made our entry with our usual annoying wail, didn't we?
To NOT answer all these questions, here's one more addition to my list of falling-flat-on-face theories: Words turn into stars and shine. Truer the words, brighter they shine. False ones try to breakthrough but they fail—unlike on Earth—as the laws of sky don't suit them. The sincere ones remain eternal.
Damn. This theory doesn't work in polluted Bombay where the stars have already left. And only the ever-changing moon is left.