𝗟𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚⚡ It feels wrong to speak of rainbows. To write about them is like trying to put a net around the breeze, to attempt to scoop up sunlight in a bowl. I have seen but a handful of rainbows and even that feels incorrect to say since I’ve never grasped at them. Just a breezy ... Read More
This is part of my Seasonal Nostalgia series. https://www.instagram.com/p/BY_il5OnAsb/ I Miss You When It Rains In summer, you can have my umbrella. In the rain, make it so I never have to see grey or the tears the sky sheds when you’re not around. Follow my writings on https://www.yourquote.in/ideasmithy
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I’m back from a packed weekend with a number of intense experiences and I’m doing the next three prompts in a row so there’ll be patterns and repetition. Okay, you were warned. Here goes the first Reverb10 prompt. December 24 Prompt – Everything’s OK What was the best moment that could serve as proof that ... Read More
Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown and the broken heart that trusts again ~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~ The last leaves of an Indian summer crunch beneath my walking feet Come monsoon, there will be flowers again ~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~ Trust is like the Catch-22 of love Aborted without, Murdered with ~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~
1:25 a.m. is more Saturday night than Sunday morning, no matter what the calendar says. After a day of light drizzle or no rain, the clouds let themselves go again. For a few seconds all I can hear is the rain. Not the sound the ground makes as the water hits it, nor the metal ... Read More
On the first week of June, Mumbai welcomed the monsoon of 2008. I watched it arrive, alone…which is probably the best way, with the rain. The skies heralded the season of water. And then I watched the drops paint the sidewalk a shiny, sheeny gloss of life.
Another recycled post from the days when I had just one blog and it was called ‘Just a Statistic’. The weather seems to dictate it. I’m feeling exactly the way I felt 3 years back! Life is so cyclic. Thursday, 5th August 2004 ~ Drops of water ~ Insignificant little drops of water Perfectly formed ... Read More
He looks at her from the corner of his eye Thinking she won’t notice Secretly hoping she will So secret, he won’t even admit to himself She feels his look Like sunlight, warm on her cheeks Her eyes stay downcast Shielded from his blinding gaze Warmed nevertheless by its intensity Then it starts to rain.
The room has a view. An expensive view. She says, Take a walk in the mud. Stay out in the rain so long that you never feel clean and dry again. When you return, you won’t need to stand at the window to see the view. He shrugs, Too late, I already paid the rent.