I do not know what exactly cracked that night, that very moment. It almost seemed magical. The moment when those words sunk in, they went deep. And deeper and deeper… Until they halted at that dusty door. That door, well had been locked well enough. That door was red blood. It was hard and thick due to the layers over it. But to my surprise, they had all the required materials to dissolve those layers. Just like the acrosome at the wall. It changed the composition and opened the door… The insides of the door tried leaping out too. But it did not as it was tamed not to. Yet it sure did trigger. The egg certainly shook. To break it from the outside would be killing. But to break it from the inside would be a new beginning to life… It is all just an illusion. That which is normal to the spider is chaos for the fly. That which was normal for those words was sunlight to the insides of that door. The art of Beethoven might be normal to a musician, but to a person who has never heard it – it is pure amazement. There are such many sides to look at a picture. Yet one should tame to look at the positive side. Why mourn for the sun when the moon reflects it ? Why chide when you can praise ? A change is needed at every turn, else how can one differentiate the path from the previous ? A crack, if made, shouldn’t be from the outside. The life in that very egg would be put to death. That one crack from the inside that very night brought out a new life which was shiny and bright.