The night woke up when the sun set, Birds in the herds broke up to their nests, Moon apologized for not coming that night, And as usual he blamed the clouds for that. The night there was no night but just dark, There was greenery, color, visible nothing but dark, The night opened the gates and rain flooded my body, I saw myself in the mirror of shower which looked just dark. Night blessed the valley with thunders and there was light, I embraced the beauty for a second and again there was night, Guilt mocked me as I took the beauty of the place for granted, I lay on the slipping mud faced the shower fighting my mind. It seemed as if centuries had passed had passed and my soul held me from within, I was ready to surrender as if nature questioned my very being, Showers stopped and billion lives near me started breathing, I forgot what I was doing there but I was healing.
There is a sense of conventionality in linearity. A polygon, when exceeds 22 sides becomes a circle. An idea, when loses conventionality becomes curved - smooth, free, universal yet unconventional.