My First Book

Hello, everyone!

I write this post to share with you that I have self-published my first book on Amazon. It is a collection of essays which reflect my inner thoughts and emotions, giving me a chance to express myself in words and photographs. It isn’t perfect, but a work-in-progress like I am. I wish that you would take a look and let me know how you feel about it.

The book is available as an e-book and a paperback. Right now, the kindle version is available for free between 18 September and 19 September, Pacific Time.

Here is the link : https://www.amazon.com/RISING-BUD-NIYATHI-SREE-LALAM-ebook/dp/B09G36LSF8/ref=sr_1_2?dchild=1&keywords=rising+bud&qid=1631985087&sr=8-2

I truly hope that you’ll enjoy reading it. Please feel free to tell me about the drawbacks you find so that I can improve myself further. I will be grateful for your feedback.

Thank you so much!


“The terrain watered down; the sky lighter than before; we are immersed in light, albeit dim and uncanny. Doesn’t it add to the surrealness of our ever mutable lives?”

With thunder grumbling in the corners, the sky guns down pellets that hit the hard surface of the earth with a continuous crackle. Slowly, our clear vision of our surroundings is spattered translucently. These sheer covers create misty drapes that only dart away at the tinge of green foliage. The foliage is beaten hard too. But its glisten disperses across the foamy air, and reaches our eyes.

The occurrence may be seasonal yet it comes with something new each time the curtains of heat are drawn. Rains are showers that smatter us with a thin crust of magic. The sky is oval and the lightning, a reaction to the condensed nature of our world. We await things to happen to us. What if we wait instead for the things we act on, to fructify?

The bashing rain is the fruit the earth is gifted, for its eternally long gaze toward the sky. And when the earth welcomes this fruit, it relaxes and lets go of its burdens. Besides, all these thoughts spin gems of lessons for us to reflect on. I think this is one device of the cosmos to calm us and still entice us to thirst for more. Our understanding of the world we live in, is multi-dimensional. It progresses as we cross over edges of limitations we tend to become used to.

One thing we must realize is that life sprouts tenderly. It curls in unfinished, uneven rings as a sign of its transcendence above death. Small stems of little plants are the emblem of raw life. They contain bursts of liveliness, which manifests in the lush greenery of leaves adorning shrubs to trees. The layers of green waves protruding outwards, stretching all over the thick brown barks of trees, are the blessings of earth, bestowed on its dependents. Germinating in the soil, they’re the bridges that connect us to nature.

And nature is the greatest teacher we can find access to, in moments of doubt. The trick is to hold negative thoughts out of our hearts, before we’re fully consumed by them. To uproot them, we need to fall back on sheer will to emerge outside the cocoon doubt attempts to bind us in. This requires trust and a sense of belonging that encompasses both our inner and outer worlds.

I, personally, remind myself not to fall prey to the trappings of dejection. I tell myself that a positive approach is the most apt solution to making sense of my problems. More so, because it allows me to comprehend my interests holistically. Being one with the universe begins with our recognizing that it is one whole.

As evidence of the interconnectedness in the universe, the world is blighted a shade of white at the end of a shower. Life is still, buzzing mysteriously in the spirit that comprises the arena it had earlier been disturbed in. Our lungs can now rise freely, without being constricted by any weight hanging over our chests. Our uneasiness and troubling emotion fizzle out.


“The serenity that oozes out of thundering cascades, is gifted by their steamy gush. The moisture cloaks us; we are drawn into its wise clutch. It is as dynamic as the very own nature of water.”

How strong is water? Where does its energy to subtly adapt to the circumstances thrown by nature lie? How adeptly does it manifest the ferocity of nature? What is the nature of water?

Water, in some ways, delights us, and in others, frightens us. It stirs deep romanticism in us, and so does it arouse morbidity from within our depths. It garnishes the world with beauty. It wreaks havoc with lives. All, in the spectrum of its moods. How could a cause of disaster create beauty? Or is there something off in my way of relating to this matter?

The surface of water is so gentle that we break it with our fingers. However, this very soft surface morphs into a wall to disgorge our world. It leaves a trail of destruction in its wake. In a way, it reminds one how it’s possible to be gentle but firm. Soft yet sturdy. Commanding as well as obedient.

Water molds itself as per its vessel, while it also has the potential to alter the vessel. It imparts to us advice on adjusting to our terrains, along with impacting our environments. This is an example of how there are lessons to be learnt even in bad times. Additionally, I believe it merits mention that lessons abound in good times too. But we don’t partake in them. They zone out of our minds, because we can’t sense their use in that particular moment, so we put them off. And they dissolve away, until one day, when we wake to a reality, the key of which lays in them.

This is how life goes. On an axis we haven’t deciphered yet, and I wonder if we ever will. Water isn’t just a life-giving resource, but also a catalyst in blowing out the breath of life it so sustains. It nourishes us yet punishes us. It loads us up with fresh energy, yet captures us in helplessness.

It surpasses the feeble columns we create to organize our lives. It could erase anything. Just as destructively as constructively. It could throw at us a rubble of our creations as well as a cure to our ills. It can remove our maladies and shatter our constructions. Basically, it teaches us that there isn’t much to life than evolving. Flowering. Flowing. Keeping that in mind, we ought to carve ourselves in the image of water. To respond in life as we see fit. And seeing involves penetrating facades. Breaking through as water does.


Ornamental beads are glowing lights in the dark, as the bodies they dress are lost sight of. The shining spectacles that they are, they emit light which ricochets off them. Everything is ornamental; we are all beads. We are pieces integral, strung to the masterpiece of the cosmos. Yet, we are part of one singularity. “

Glittering drops of rain, after the shower has gone, lie on tender leaf blades which jut out in a slant, folded manner becoming of a heart. When this visual darts into my eyes, my spirit begins to bubble outwards, like a cloudy stream or fountain. I take a deep breath, and find myself belonging to the world around me. I feel one with it. The expansive panorama, I can’t describe properly.

We know that we focus on things we’re attracted to. Certain things appeal to us, whereas others don’t. Sometimes, we take particular things very seriously. We tend to have a determined fixation with them. But when we are in too deep in our preoccupation with those matters, we lose our focus. Yes, when we’re focused, we lack focus.

The drops of rain on the leaves act as ornaments on the plants. Trees decked with those gems tiny are all the more eased of the burdens they bear. Frequently, looking at a micro level, we forget the larger picture. So I would say that it is good for us to take a break intermittently in our busy schedule, and switch off. Let our eyes blur a bit. Once we’ve blurred and our focus is dissolved, our senses are accentuated, and we absorb so very much of what is around us.

The puddles formed of soiled water remind me of tea, and the mud nearby, of biscuits. I find the bleak contrast of colors mesmerizing. It appears as a perfectly live painting. Especially, with the tracks on the wet ground, which form an indiscernible pattern as life itself. All those varied imprints making up the portrait of life, altogether.

Stilling ourselves in the second we’re in right now, we could demolish a lot of our apprehensions. We could reset our approach towards life. We could come to the realization that life goes on, taking no breaks on its path, offering us bundles of opportunities.


The crest which pops out in a frame of uniform expanse, billows out the shimmer of the sun off its surface. Its flanks are short bursts that spurt out in adrift moments; the image – an emblem of joy we seek, with a regal touch abound.

Are we crests among clouds or crest clouds? It doesn’t matter, because it’s all based on perspective. But do we go where the wind blows or otherwise? Isn’t this still a matter of perspective? However, one thing remains – desire.

Isn’t it desire for something that rests us? Doesn’t it give us joy? Don’t we chase goals for the joy they accrue to us? If not so, then what could possibly be the end or culmination of our desires? Our restlessness abandons us when we’re satiated by some or the other welcome respite, which provides us with temporary shelter. It is as good as any oasis we may have wished for in the midst of our struggles in a lonely desert.

Whatever we desire is somehow linked to what calms us when ruffled. One sets out to figure things out, so that it all makes sense and satisfies their doubts. We go in search of meaning and purpose, in order to understand the value of our lives. To comprehend what we stand for. During this process, we collect various tokens, and seek even more.

These tokens are an assorted pack. They come in very many shapes and sizes. Each of us gets to pick our favorite tokens. Besides, we turn those tokens into the very idea of success we harbor so deeply. Oftentimes, this makes us pay a hefty price in the pursuit of life. When the wait for achieving those tokens gets longer, we become disgruntled.

It’s like my expectations hit a wall and I can’t check my eagerness to reach the shore I set my eyes on. In my anguish, I forget that struggle is but an accessory in the larger scheme of winning one’s cherished prize. What this prize entails varies from person to person. But in the turmoil that brews intermittently, one mustn’t languish. I must remind myself that even in a desert land, the loose sand doesn’t stand in its place idly, but blows with the wind towards other frontiers.

Just like desert soil, I search for ways to find joy in my life. The moment joy blooms in our little bubbles, we become peaceful. It becomes the shade that guards us, enveloping us in the brightness of our dreams.


Clouds are home to raindrops, before they descend onto the earth. Our past is the nest we fly from, as young birds, and the future, a stream that cascades down the hinges of now.”

While the rain-soaked roads look towards the sky hooded by strands of cloud, the air picks up and moves noiselessly. The hills are drenched, partly under a screen of floating fog. Leaves on slim branches of young trees rustle in the gentle wind that doesn’t seem to exhaust its slight motion. Patches in the mud collect the water that had befallen unto its hard surface, which is now mushy, underneath the weight of a dripping sky, that doesn’t stop leaking.

The mud has crevices, which are pitchers of freshwater, now mingled with its soil grains. Hills are hidden behind a thin film of gaseous white, seeming farther than they actually are. The closer clouds are to land, the more distant and spacious appears the world around me. Who did this? The trail of cloud hanging low over the hilltop? Or the impression of a sky laying claim to the land I am on, as its own territory?

When the sky stretches down, it opens us by a crack to the infinitude of heights that we deny our immediate surroundings, wherever we are. The dimensions of the universe are immeasurable. Our need for stability compels us to estimate all that which falls in our sight and passes through our minds.

But how could a part judge its whole? Is there a way? If so, I’d love to know. If not, I’ll simply embrace the situation. Either way, it is exciting because the spirit that pervades each nook and cranny of the universe, graces me too. And this is the connection I so long for. It is the root to my tree of life.

I must nourish myself and grow on my own, centering myself in this spirit. A lot of things contribute to our lives. Life itself is a marvel and is embellished by marvels. We only need to make the necessary journey towards collecting experiences which otherwise wouldn’t have been ours.

This makes it paramount for us to truly revel in the gifts strewn on our respective paths. We ought to use them properly and carry forward the message we choose for ourselves. We should learn to unravel ourselves and resonate with who we are, in each phase of our lives. Growing as we change, we progress on our journeys. Eventually, this progress percolates, and awakens one’s spirit to achieve.

Like dew on grass that soaks into our bare feet when we walk through, toward a fresh horizon.

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