Prologue

Mom told me to write about  nature,

Dad told me to write on politics,

Brother told me to write nothing.

Friends told me to write anecdotes         

on our bond,  the immortality of

which I myself am not sure about.

My mentor told me to spin my

words and entwine the strings

so bad that unraveling becomes

      the  activity of  the day.

I deviated from being literal

and enjoyed every bit of the

process and the new found me.

Now all I want to write about

is nothing but the  journey.