Long long ago once I heard the ring bells of Kundil Nagar and since then I've been trying to find the raw gold in the markets of Maibong, the orange moon became the fellow conspirator and in the flute tuned night I fall prey to the words.
And long ago When I traveled the green forests lodging myself to the corner of my own mind I tried to give the rhythm to the words by stroking my hand on my front room table and tried find the metaphysics of it to feel if I'm the same man as I was 40 years ago. I don't claim to be a poet of some aromatic words, it is just that I try to sculpt words with an imaginary hammer about the first sunrise of my beloved village ,the first sight of my Darling's ha