Maitreya

About the Book

He would move, he would rise and he would awake. The world would know him as Maitreya, the hidden one, perfectly still and empty. The seekers of Nirvana and Maitreya have grown old. Old age has brought with it wrinkles as that of a withering savanna flower; the hair too reflects a mind altogether rubbed by time, growing whiter like life growing pale underneath the shadow of time.

About the Author

I was born in Kathmandu in the year 1975, and with birth aspirations began and struggle came into being. I became part of the education programme in a British school where I embraced knowledge so as it would be the source of liberation of the soul. My late mother was a doctor and my father is a retired professor. I find time for music besides writing, which are part of the slow process of growth. The moving finger writes so as I may move on with the moment to moment movement of life, and may my aspirations find space to blossom beneath the flux of time…