வெண்ணிற இரவுகள்

He is the most ordinary person you would ever get to know.

Any day he fancies scorching sun over the soothing moon; Dreamy clamour over deafening silence.

As much as he loves the blues and the greens, Goes to great lengths to argue that Black is the only colour and rest all just faded out from it. 

Long roads he travels, adventures that he takes you along, only to loose you on the trail. 

When you stumble and slide, he plunges to pull you up with a hearty laugh.

Just because he is lazy to fill the gap between the head and the hand, he buries treasures that would never sparkle in your curious eyes. 

And once in a while, because he is generous enough, he lets you dwell in the cosy nooks of his thought coffers.

Don't mistake him for the forbearance he displays. He is patient enough to set it up, stir it up and in a blink, pour it all down in his mischievous ways. 

All you can do is to get confused between showering tender love over his merriment or hurt your soul by chiselling this stone.

What would you call him? Mighty? For being as calm as a tempest-beaten rock at the threat of trouble? or Fragile? As he faults at life's feeble little things?

An open book with secrets untold. 

Run to him for the warm heart he is, you might end up receiving a frostbite. Complain not, he is a devil with the halo of an angel. A rogue who plays fair. A perfectionist who slobs. Awkward yet refined. He is neither perfect nor a mess. 

If he was the Sunbeam, he wouldn't know which rock to harden.

If he was Stardust, he wouldn't care about all the glitter that is hidden.

If he was a Moonstone, he wouldn't bother to lay unbidden.

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