Seeds of these lyrics quietly bide their time inside all of us. Now & then, when the mind is very still, they flower as poems. The poet is merely a florist who arranges some of these in a boquet.

There are no names in the wonderland where these flowers grow. Ego, which dances on names and can't survive without them, has no place here to call its own.

Use of 'K' is just a concession to convention, a convenient hook for this book. Ignore it, and read these poems as your own.

Still mind, singing heart.

This is what sets those apart,

Who have internalised the notion,

"I'm not the lake, I am the ocean!"