A man who weaves worlds with words, his eyes holding galaxies of dreams. Sometimes a blunt arrow, but always a compass pointing north. Stubborn in his principles, yet with a heart that shelters kindness like a secret garden. He never wears his scars on parade, but their whispers echo in the depths, a testament to battles fought and won. *Happy birthday, sir.* May this year be your canvas, and your dreams the vibrant colors that paint it beautiful. ©Archana Chaudhary"Abhimaan"

Archana Chaudhary"Abhimaan"