Sometimes they spring up full-blown and disappear as quickly as they came, phantom slivers of churning mind-scape. I missed the mist but it found me anyway in the plain regret of mature introspection. Astigmatisms of bygone days are twenty-twenty today. But no mind, there's no self-incrimination. The organic twist of living being, evolving gets made. And we cannot twist around, and reach into the back-seat to change the past and make the road ahead engineer well. It's best to live and let decision birth itself into this passing moment fabric-ed as life itself.
By my beloved father, Prem K. Shastri... One heck of a genius.