First Patters of Rain

There are times in our life where we stop. Take a pause. To look up. To feel the ability which reckons as an astute energy inside waiting in all eagerness to explode in its own way in the form of Work, Creation. As the dark clouds pregnant with heavy monsoon, my mind filled with a plethora of ideas awaits to downpour all the shapeless thoughts into the magical structures called Words.

The best way to romance with life is to constantly risk oneself into new ventures, small or big, and to create something with the assurance of justifying our own existence. By resorting to pen down, I am venturing to take refuge in creativity besides myself. This first venture of mine into the territory of writing might appear short in its vision or could grow naive in its ambition. Yet, it will always remain precious as the experience of the first love; the birth of the first child; the feel of the first kiss; the sound of the first patters of rain. The ray of hope still brightens my morning sky and brings me the belief that I would delight you with my might.

With all your love.