Once upon a time, there lived a painter.
He was a helpless drunkard.
But he had the hands of Picasso and Van Gogh
He never went to an art school or remained in the company of fellow painters.
He used to hum his own tune.
He used to say to himself and to the world that "one day I will paint a masterpiece that the world would watch in awe, Mesmerized!".
One chilly morning his body was found near the staircase of his down-trodden apartment.
And the painter was me.