Not all angels come from above. Some are beside you or around you even as we speak. Then why can't we see them? Because we are too busy searching for them elsewhere. We won't find them unless we stop looking for them amongst the demons or in our prayers offered to the Gods. Open your eyes, perceive your vicinity and analyse people - only then will you find the true angels.

There lived a poet in the lands of gold,Wrote along poems unaffected by warmth or cold,His words spoke truth and pen's stroke was bold,His only motive: lives to mould

The belief that ignites hope in the heart of a person to survive is the same belief that boosts the ego of the person and deters his progress by clouding his judgments.

The rangers of the night stay strangers in the eye of time.

Culture is an identity and identity is a weapon which can work its way around strong foundations decaying them from the inside with the help of wrecking beliefs known as superstitions. However, every culture must have a superstition without which its uniqueness is lost.

These trembling hands no longer have the confidence it exuded a few years ago. Hope has been extinguished and uncertainty is what remains for the rest of my days now.

Reinvent Yourself.Redesign Yourself.Reform Yourself.Restore Yourself.and if something is left of you till thenAppreciate Yourself.

And I know few would believe me but belief is what drives a man,If all of us long for the Golden Age, then we all can,Bring the days filled with peace, prosperity, generosity, love and fearless nigh',We all must believe something to survive, I believe in the serene age lost in seasons gone by.

As I sit and reflect in the gloomy shades of the setting sun, a voice inside my head keeps reminding me - 'The past is a morbid place to be'.