"Running wildly in the rapturous mood, trying to decipher the roar of the inner mystical furore, whether it's a joy of sinecure, with lesser of material wantings or it's the desire of having more, to interpret the moods scampered to figure out in the woods, to pick the signals from rustling rills, fluttering leaves, rattling racoons hopping gazelles, tried to match the rhythm to lull the humdrum, as the moon kissed the sundown, returned to the abode of pagan, turned myself to become altruistic to kiss the love of compassion, where the exhilaration knows no bounds, when the honest advice comes from within. ©prasannakkumar"