Again follows my blues, after the cyclone-phyan left its impact over the skies of the twin cities I live these days. The patter of the rains transforming into loud nostalgia pierces me. It cuts across time and space. And reminds everything has changed - but me. Yes, things did change at my end too, but stagnantly, like moss. I am frazzled with the question bouncing back to me every now and then - “till when will this stagnancy continue?”I am tuckered out completely with this survival routine.When will I live my life? Will I ever be able to live my dreams or die battling for survival? How and when do I break the shackles and pursue my creative interests?
