The piper picked his flute, looked up into the skies and shook his head. Something was missing—his tunes. He stood motionless—struggling, trying, battling with his memories to remember what to play. For once, he was bereft of melodies. Not really. He wasn’t bereft. He’d forgotten what to play. “Just a night before now I’ve played this tunes all day. How come I can’t remember?” He thought to himself. “I’ve never lacked music. What is happening to me?” He stood still. Contemplating. His audience looked on. Confused. Five minutes. Ten minutes...Twenty minutes gone and still no trace of the melodies he played just a night before. “Maybe it’s time. It’s time to go.” He said. The piper took a bow—namaste, and walked off the stage. Murmurings and whisperings later, one among the audience asked; “What just happened?” An answer came from the crowd; “Alas, the piper took his final bow. His flute sings no more and it’s time to go.” Time to go… Some days you go and you come back. Some days y...