Sometimes, an author just rambles on...

His words find meaning only when the harmony of his soul matches that of the reader...

Otherwise they are just mere words, juxtaposed to create a pleonasm. 

As I prepare for the battle, a war wages within... so much is at stake, that Mahabharat's gamble would be put to shame.


But I have to carry on... if not for myself, for the guardian angels that I have around me.


This is my offering to them...