I have always been curious about our six senses and how they react or are unable to react when one or some of our primary organs suddenly fail to respond. Do we go back to our same senses easily or if we cannot retain them back ever, how do we feel. I have always tried to look beyond the pain and try to see the dream of each individual while I cannot actually see them. It is difficult to write about Spring without witnessing the flowers ever. There is still a lot of bullying for being someone who is physically unable to be regular, however not mentally. The mindfulness of the blind kids that I have interacted with when I was writing the story was mind-blowing. They think, they feel and they express through every action and that motivated me more than anything. On the contrary when we lose sense to one or more than one out of the six organs, then the concentrated emphasis on the rest of the organs reciprocate more and their intensity to enable any action or expression becomes poignant. It inspires me every time I see that and I imagine to be blind at some point in my life to be able to only dream what I want to dream, what I adore to watch. In our self proclaimed usual of life we often regularise a dream with crowded cacophonies. Sometimes our dreams are even more dangerous and political and at times they are colourblind to some extent too. Whereas it is hardly that we can imagine what is something about putting up our own shows as our dreams and if politically or emotionally challenged, let us confront them on their bloody face . Colour blindness is something that people often misunderstand and pity unnecessarily.