Feel loved, feel happy, and feel good about yourself. Go, flaunt that list of books you have read, share the movies you watched, post those travel pics of yours and the life recaps, make that resolution (well, again), dance your way into the new year or sleep your way into it, arrive gracefully waltzing or embarrassingly tripping, in your senses or completely sloshed, be loud or quiet, take in the morning sun or bathe in the moonlight, cherish the moment with your loved ones or savour your solitude. Do whatever the hell you want, whatever brings you happiness. Be upbeat, be unapologetic!
Tag Archives: writing
Silver Surfer: We never get to go home!
We’re all stars, in our own galaxies. And at the heart of each star that now so brightly twinkles, is a passionate fire that’s feeding on it. The fire that burns, makes it a star. The fire that’s not going to let up until it consumes it completely. The star wants to show gratitude to the people it loves, but now all it can do from afar, is burn a little more and twinkle a bit brighter. Such is the life of every star. It burns, it shines; it cools, it dies.
The Still Life of Oranges
Sitting cross-legged, basking in the dappled sun, sunlight falling on, off leaves, spilling, splashing, us peeping out the balcony bars, teeth sunk into the tangy pulp of oranges, spitting out the small pips, smelling citrus and reading the book in front. Orange, the colour and the fruit. Scents and images often stir sensibilities and evokeContinue reading “The Still Life of Oranges”
खत, Chitthi: The lost “art” of letter writing
There was an entire emotive experience attached even to letter reading. The agonizing wait, the anticipation, the excitement and the satisfaction. The thrill of tearing the envelope open, pulling out the letter and carefully unfolding them, passing them from hand to hand, the tendency to peek and huddle while one read them aloud. The touch, the texture, the scent of paper and the ink used. The papery smell, at times musty and damp, at times dry and dusty, weather worn and bearing traces of their journey.
Turning 31, on the clock!
Mine is usually a quiet neighborhood. The bell strikes for the third time like a huge hammer on a gong and I finally bolt out of bed, eyes still shut and crusty, head heavy and mind dazed. I hurt my toe as I fumble my way to open the door, let my maid didi inContinue reading “Turning 31, on the clock!”
Books, movies & a note to myself: Write
Hello stranger, I am going to speak to you and then some to myself. A word of caution though, I as a whisperer to the best of my knowledge am both uncertain and unreliable. As I sit to put some words to paper at 3 in the morning, the hour of the dead, I rememberContinue reading “Books, movies & a note to myself: Write”
Somesh | Katyayan 