Rock-a-bye baby
craddle’s on tree top,
watch it my baby if the craddle drops
its hell of a fall
seemed a familiar lullaby. and guess what I didn’t want to second Ashley Cole’s rue when he said”My worst fears were confirmed as Theiory and I sat in the center of the circle after the final whistle his name was sung from the roof tops, while my contribution was recognized by deafening silence. It was like I was the invisible man.”
It was one accident an year ago, that brought me from the land of probable visual to reality the windom from my hospital bed, it was on par with the tree tops.March through febraury the leaves were green with red pods, the tender twigs that protected the pods were red, early morning birds sat on it green with their red beaks it was difficult to seperate one from the other. April heralded the brown pods, that popped and wafts of cotton fluffs drifted around the place now the brown pods still hosted the birds, but the birds were brown with russet beaks.
If mother nature could talk probably she like Aishwarya Rai would say”I am not the type who’ll yell about my achievements from roof tops.”:)
view from GMC wards
