Of a poem and a dream…

Another Saturday. Life passes week by week. Ideas come and go. Days pass. Saturdays, Sundays, and then Mondays. What’s the thing that’s missing?

Hmm, my mp3 player is too intuitive. I wrote what’s the thing that’s missing and it started playing Enge enathu kavithai. Where is my poem–one that I had written in dream?

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