Have you seen a shooting star? Haven’t you seen a budding rose flower? There are a whole lot of colors in it. Time is ticking and it’s true. I have a limited span of time to take you around this dark globe.

Who am I? A writer…? A painter…? Hey gorgeous girl how long do you take to dress up? Hey honey did you forget to wear your shades? Eyes and my mind are connected to your smile.

Those were the days I used to open the batting for Dindigal District Team.

I was a dreamer then and used to see myself along with Indian legend batting for Indian team. Time is ticking and it’s true. I never used to read a lot nor did I issue any books from the library to read.

Once I knew the world will recognize me. Once I knew the world will glare at my skills. The stone that I carried a long way since then has faded on the way. There were many who came and their luck proved to be in the Indian team today. It’s a gambling. Some win. Some loose. Who is going to come next? Somebody will come and the rest will take bench outside the boundary. I wake up early morning like before and when I see myself on this mirror, mind keeps shafting thoughts and I’m glued on to my own confusions. I got someone to blame and it’s the person whom I see on the mirror. So, so you think you can tell!! Blue skies, dark globe… What more have you done in your life? You been entertaining the entire globe and now when you turn back, the entire process has been ‘gag’. In the end… yes… In my place, at peace in love with my folks I stay. We are just two lost souls. We ran on the same ground… huh! We ran like hell… It’s time to breathe… Mind has become a gambler... All you see is true.

I did scribble something on to this column. Unfortunately there is this ‘Not Useful’ button missing. This room is painted in green and there are lots of plants out here. Wish, dream and hope has gone… Dead and gone far… 3000 Watts is been causing noise pollution and my speakers doesn’t remain just calm.

It’s me, me and my world. There is no war because it’s me, me and just me in this world.

Ice creams, fruits, and strawberries are stuffed in my fridge… Who am I? A painter…? Sprinter…?

Eh, I know not!! After all we all are just ordinary men! Aren’t we?