Their are times when laptop, pen, notepad and water bottle lying on my desk, precisely tucked bed, night lamp and bookshelf in my room feel unreal. As if I am living in a fantasy world. The reality is so perfectly real that it seems to be unreal. The voice in my head and music does not feel as an outcry of my consciousness but more like virus in my brain. Trying to wake me up. Like something wants me to get in touch with the eternal. Is their an ultimate truth an answer to all questions? What is the purpose of doing?