Photo by Tim Marshall When one lives only by the rules he makes there is bound to be friction. Do it long enough it becomes your character. Might not always provide the expected results but you can find solace in knowing these were actions based on your decisions and no one has any say in it except you. A fine man today, Not living in castles, But a humble abode, Made of blood and sweat. Made from choices, That govern an average Indian, Of one that lived in the moment, Than the promised tomorrow. He is not famous, Nor is he a leader of men, Not a hero nor a champion, Just an ordinary man. He isn't a dot on the globe, the world revolves around him. Not the earth filled by many, But just the people he is familiar. Maybe a closed small world, But he is happy living, Friends and family to share with, Satisfied with what he achieves. These are the the words of the righteous, To live truly by what he believes, Unperturbed by...

It is an ode to my father, a man who forgo the merriment of teenage and youth to bring happiness to a family. A man very different from myself, who does not know the meaning of the word relax. To date, he runs in search of work, work is worship. In a world where we struggle to find the right job, he picked one from his limited choices and committed himself to it unlike the current generation that sifts through jobs to find the best fit. I was in school when he finished his graduation. As a live example he redefined the age to study. I realize fathers are the born role models but in my case, I say it with pride, I can see no better. 18 and in search of work, Carry a weight larger than life, The youngest child, the only son, In search of stability among the rifts. Love and respect for all,  He forges an iron will, Walking the path less traveled, With tenacity in his words. Not the dreams of a teenager, One that of the man of the house, Stepping into shoe...

Photo by chuttersnap Monotonous is about understanding, while I have experienced everything around there is always more to give for the one who searches. The rarity that I search for, sometimes lies in the fact that everything else is repetitive. Leaves falling on a cloudy night, A calm breeze on a summer day, Humming birds on a Sunday morning, The early moon rising on winter evening, Beautiful the first time, Mundane on the seventh, Melodious in the morning, Annoying on a summer noon. Beautiful lies in rarity, On the off chance, I can't see it tomorrow, Beautiful is the chance, It might never happen again. Beautiful is the journey, In search of inspiring moments, Beauty lies in the perception, Of such instances in time. Monotonous when they are predictable, Boring when I know what shall happen, But there also lies beauty in knowing, I live amongst it, day in and day out.