I saw the glaciers changing, melting, disintegrating rendering and flowing into Streams. I was numb helpless in front of the awesome, bowing reverently. Drawing to me is like a blossoming garden with chirping bird, ant houses, and fragrance of flowers. Bargad, people, dawn, dusk, pathways, clamor, rasalila of Krishna everything is part of it. I went down my memory lane to the stories I had heard. I kept going beyond these lines, touching them, nudging them, and feeling them. Some reflections did come about which were as deep as stories, many disintegrated. I played a game with them, which was untitled and silent. This was a incomplete game, untrue. It was apparent that the lines were alive and talking, communicating visually. . I saw lines dancing like gypsy, swinging, oscillating and swirling. I saw them taking a flight like a bird, like butterflies, I saw bees wooing the flowers, the honeybees getting converted into beehives. I saw many a lines alter into string of light, enlighten the whole universe. The reflection of the world that I created were awesome and mysteriously strange