Let me take you to an old lane where a naughty nazm live... Many a times I wanted to meet her, she remained elusive ever. Tried to trace the trail she left, to finally word her down, always fallen short of a line or two. Again I got her glimpse behind a misty thought, to loose her to wandering whims. She wanted me to offer her a rare metaphor, how foolish was I to place a simile there....I am still following her to those blind turns where she will rest... in the book whose leaves you will turn.....