The fear of loss

As I rub my pencil against the drawing paper and nod my head in  a perfect "NO". I cannot do this. I cannot draw a human face. The workshop is doing nothing to me learn. How can it? I spend my time staring at other people who draw like M.F.Hussains and Picasso's. Ponder why then even joined the workshop, isn't it supposed to be for people like me who cannot draw.
 And suddenly the cell rings to inform of three serial blasts at walking distance from office. How do I react now? What do I do? Tata docomo fails me when I need it the most. The feeling is awful. Dark and cold, I quickly restart my cell and call up brother. He said he is fine.. I call up all loved ones.. everybody is fine... The aforeseen fear of loss send chills down my spine. God let everybody be safe...


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