Ink Stained

               Have you ever excavated the dreams behind your conscious mind; somewhere in between your cerebellum and oblangata , where your thoughts not very primary breed; with a pondering spade? It happens most of the times when with a pencil in your hand and not a very lucrative bulk of course in front of your eyes, you throw in the first blow of the spade to find a dog. A cream coloured labrador, cuddly and obedient; not very big, not very puppy. The dream you had since the day cookie ran away.                 The other blow brings in another more vital object of which you were recently parted, and which was dearer to you than most of the pretty faces you know. A white, smooth and beautiful cuboid with a silver htc engrave on its black shiny screen. The dream of owning it back. Or maybe an MRF bat. A heavy well greased bat, in perfect shape, with a red grip just as the God himself used. Or maybe coming first in the class with the same amount of work you've been doing since