It’s the place, where the birds rustle hushed under the burlesque of verves and tragedies. Where the forlorn and the insolvent look up towards the horizon for a sunshine promising the day light, pure and incandescent. No shrouds of Grey, no pleas of clemency, Just a life, lived ought to be, breathed ought to be. The smile with no shudder of pain unexplained, the eyes with twinkle that surpass the tears rend. Its all here, around us, beyond the cacophony and the sounds of monotone, beyond the chores and the callous dissonance. The hurried footsteps, the unrested eyes, the flickered souls, the blatant lies is all a past. Its all beyond that, like the shimmer of the shine through the grays, encompassing all the sorrows of the blithe, smiling but regretful. The celebrations of the life, the sorrows for the dead, the wish for a moment more with them, moment that would have been the life for the living and the dead as much…The whimper of the core, with the suds of Joy taking you afloat. To rise higher, giving into the laws of gravity and still defying it, fighting it…to reach there…where the birds rustle hushed under the….