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A sad and graphic reminder of the past, awakens the senses, disturbed and unstable, the feeling lasts and thus subtlety is lost.

Some of us always have sundays, some have friends, family, some have alcohol, we have things to depend on.
 We work and we suppress, give feelings rest but as night arrives, mental fluids churn, and the sleepless journey begins.
But as the starry eyes fade and it dawns upon us, thoughts are rendered unattended, incomplete dreams if any have occurred, are forgotten and we are back to work, the same routine, same work, same place, same time, with the same sullen faces.
One day ill find a way, one day ill surely disappear in search of transcendence.

Mihir Deshpande

He is an aspiring architect. Love's music, poetry, art, philosophy. Classic rock entices him the most. He fancies for anything out of the ordinary, especially what people find meaningless or abstract, interests him. He likes the reactions he gets from people, they may be in form of comments or mails or even a face to face conversation, helps him think and write.