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
The ailing boy turned restlessly in his bed. The darkness of the room felt heavy. Thoughts of his past sufferings returned. He had been subjected to so many body scans that he had lost count of them. Thousands of needles had pierced him. Injections—once his
I often think about how every experience that you have ever encountered, remains entirely yours. Nothing in the world can ever come close to understanding it. No one can fathom the nitty-gritty of what you are going through or what you went through. Sure, they