How often does it happen that everything is in place, everything is perfect but there is this ear blasting whisper telling us something is missing. Thoughts dip in worry to tap it down what it was that wasn’t around. And then gradually we are able to decipher what it was that went offshore. The icing of enthusiasm stayed away from the picture to make it perfect.
Each article moving at its pace has the Midas touch ones it gets to feel the heart, hand and heed hit it off.
Most lives sum up in parody. Since the birth to the last sleep in the berth, imitation remains constant. There can be changes in between and those changes with full heartedness let us survive our names long after we reduce to meaty memories. It is not in our offsprings we have our rebirths. Our beingness, our representation, our special touch twirls in the memories of others. “Oh, had he/s been here, there would have been ripples all over!” - is our touch.
Liveliness is in the pocket of our heart. At times more than frequent it must be let out for a game.
The legend signed off from what he loved most. He lived his childhood all through his adult life and god willing and he willing shall continue forever. If he hadn’t tossed and turned long with eager enjoyment could he become what has become of him between those 22 yards?
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