They say you know me. They've sculpted my stories into temples, sung my name in songs, and painted my childhood on countless walls. They remember the butter thief, the divine lover, the charioteer of Arjuna, and the flute player beneath the moon. But this is not that Krishna's tale. This is not a retelling of scriptures, nor a narration of the grand wars or celestial miracles. This is a whisper from the spaces between the verses. A diary written not with ink, but with memory. You see, even gods have quiet moments. Even avatars have doubts, heartbreaks, laughter, and silences they never shared — until now. This book is for the seeker who wonders what the divine feels when he's alone. This book is for the lover who's ever said goodbye with a smile. This book is for you — the soul who's lived a thousand questions in a single breath. Read not with the eyes of logic, but with the heart of longing. And perhaps—----… you'll hear my flute in the pauses between these pages. – Kanha