And here it Kicks. Old monk starts talking again rather pouring its heart out. Peacefully gazing at the sky above, trying to notice the magnificent twinkling of the stars, big or small, they are. “What I will die as, I don’t know .But today my friend, I play.” Last month he bought a shining red Jumbo Granada. Learning day by day. The six strings plucked from low to high bring peace to him. Makes him feel alive and brings him close to himself. But presently the chords help his pain to fade.
“One day I will be teaching. Nurturing the young, less fortunate kids.” He never dreamt big, never were aspirations of being high class sophisticated artificial gentleman. All the dreams he had , talked about the actions that could smoothen his mind. “Last Shot , an no more imaginations”, he fell asleep on the large saffron green nylon threaded couch in the small balcony.
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