Rain drop keeps falling on my head. It falls everyday telling me to write something or whatever I can write about. Well, I have decided to see the world in a more old-fashioned way and touch on our common, humble, unique, and heroic sensitivities that define the sorrow and happiness of our existence.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
the mystique and the mysterious...
Like old stories of old days, old radios, and old films, actions, decisions, events are all in the midst of mysterious and mystique circumstances. Even the nights and the days are very much far apart. What more the time and the space, and the people themselves. Be it in the morning, evening, and the nights. The rich and the poor, the small house and the big house, the cars, the bicycles, and the old roads.The towns and the shop houses. All are being mystically possessed by the untouchable sound of the trees, wind, the seas and the rivers, all locked up in emptiness. And today, I one for sure found that mystical behaviors of yesterdays, just in a flash of seconds.What a day! Allahuakbar.
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