Life moves on in such a frantic pace. Time is short. Priorities are frequently re-shuffled. There are times when thoughts are articulated in such a beautiful fashion like a brilliant degustation menu. There are other times, when thoughts are half-baked and merely leftovers from a long day at work. Distractions are a curse of this generation. Finding times of solitude to think and write is like an oasis. But often what I get is only a mirage. One day, I think. One day, I shall return to write. When will that day be. Today, I hope. Today. Maybe.