Embraced by the fate of ageing, br My camera-phone struggles to respond in time, br Causing the best scenes to go missing, br Which I am sure will never recur anytime. br br The shutter blinks eons after being clicked, br Preventing me from freezing the time; br But those unexpected moments it picked, br Are images rendered artistically prime. br br I muse over those moments uncaptured in retrospection, br My mind’s dark-room recreating the scenery, br Processing them with my imagination, br And archiving them in the gallery of memory. br br I wish I were a painter talented, br To reproduce those images on a canvass; br So that the treasure is evenly distributed, br Making my mission as an artist a success.