Sunday, July 03, 2016

Spring


Somewhere after the terrible times, after the turmoil is over, there has to be a spring,

When your footsteps will be like before, sprightly and fast not like the drag of feet across these interminable winter,

May be only you will be left behind to tell the tale, how this went from joy to misery in a single day.

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Evenings at the Indian Coffee House 

In this middle age, I wonder how life has turned out to be, so different from the images that I had when someone asked me to ima...