April 21, 2019 A white sweater, a small bicycle stitched in thread, two mortals sitting together as if in a fairytale, a quiet bench at dawn, waiting for the first coffee shop to open, hair tied in a khajuri, a soft palm-tree ponytail Parul helped me earlier, the first time someone did my hair in such a graceful artwork. For a moment dizzy silence mattered. A partner, sleep-creased from the late night, resting gently on lover's shoulder, nearby, a few older bikers in their quiet rhythm, while the Krishnagiri Range lingered in the distance: vast, hushed, and g od's masterpiece. 7 years later! (Unlike movies, script changed drastically in drastically beautiful ways) April 21, 2026. Removing the calendar from table wouldn't change the fact that the next day won't occur, accept the time ones life's ended on earth. Framing wrong questions, won't change your idea of wrongdoing; Switching fan...