People. People hurt people all the time. I wonder how many people I’ve been hurt by, and how many people have I hurt. Then I wander from my wonders and reflect, why wouldn’t I write about the inexplicable intricacies of graph theory that after apparently infinity of my grapples with them continue to elude me; and rather purge away sorrows, blot them on writing paper with ink? Why this profound emotion, and why not that profound emotion? Yes, I’ve been hurt. Even devastated, at times. But I realized life won’t end. It won’t end until I end it. I am responsible for my own happiness. I am to blame for my own unhappiness. It isn’t a fact, just a belief. Yes, eventually I found people who will love me and I will love them. Yes, even they hurt me sometimes and maybe I hurt them too. But since I love them and they love me, we are together. That probably, is the essence of love. And I again wonder, why wouldn’t I elucidate the impeccable details of my travel life in Delhi and let people wonder if indeed I am the reincarnation of The Genius, but write this. I sit back and bask in the realization that I’ve miles to go before I sleep, miles to go before I sleep. There won’t be a better end.