It’s okay sometimesTo show your tears,Know your tears,And the place they come from.It is what makes youWhat you are.How long do you planTo rest in a bottle?Let everything outSmash it to pieces— Fall to the groundMake a mess,Vent it all out.Your boat is caught in a
What an extraordinary book! Hands down, one of my most prized possessions to date. What the book primarily does is let you delve into the beautiful and surreal mind of the most legendary writer of his age, Satyajit Ray—a genius whose prowess is praised even
I happened to come across a video of an artist performing fluid art in which they tie a paint bucket with a hole in it to a string. The artist then allows Earth’s gravity to take charge, creating a painting. The resulting image is similar
It’s quite surreal how the expanse of people we touch in a lifetime remains so limited. We brush up against a handful and conjecture it to be our world. Around 8.1 billion people on this planet, and our lives are going to cross paths with
A torrent of tormentWhen it passes through life,It leaves behind a rare calm,For you to gather the piecesAfter the storm.The drumming and howlingOf last nightHave died down,Along with your hopesFor the familiar sun.The wind has droppedIts gears of introspection,To count your deadAnd find the breathing.Go!
Sometimes I feel that something is always working in my favor, as if there’s an invisible force protecting me, taking away my anxiety, regarding me in dire conditions, listening to my wants, and fulfilling them all. Situations I get anxious over are eliminated just like
At times, I feel God has plans for everyone. If you don’t believe in the adage “man makes his own destiny,” then you are left with the option of believing in some incomprehensible force that gets things done for you. It is hard not to
Ticking clock,Loud breath,Heartbeats,Wet eyesStare at the door to open,Waiting for my saviourTo emergeAnd save me from –An empty room of solitude,And a heart ache.What’s a few more days,When you have waited a lifetime?Every hourGrieves your painful absence,And curses the time spent without you.These empty arms
I feel nostalgic for the era of simplicity we’ve moved on from. While the new one brings technological advancements, sure, but I still miss simpler times. Back when our biggest pastime was curating beautiful songs for our playlists, and then simply listening to them. I
An old man walks with his experienceAnd his adorable paunch, With an ailment in his pocket,A newspaper ‘neath his arm. Keen eyes for the steps ahead,Not so much for the drunken path, Chained to the table of time,Where he finds his daily bread, A life