mist and music
There is purity tucked in nooks and corners…
When you play the ‘tivra sa’ and there is that automatic chime with the sound...like heavens telling you that you have hit the right note. There is nonchalance when it rains and all you see is water drops forming something of a mist...you ending up moist on the foot-board of the train not wet, not dry...something like love.
there must be God. has to be.