I don't know whether I am there or not in your canvas, I never got tired drawing the past with the crayons of our memories moving on,never meant looking back is a crime! the years gone by may not come again still the indelible imprints they left behind are enough to lubricate the helpless heart machine the charcoal who knows may be recycled to reproduce a flame even now! if reading again the glossary of our conversations and re-reading the notation of love are nothing but foolishness then let they be! looking at the peephole with fortitude for a gleamer of self-made solace is not at all to blame! Image Credit : Google
the rains outside my windows and my intonation of heart continued to hover.. how goodness simplicity can be the weaknesses how people love to treat you at a discount taking for granted while rudeness reticence ego clad dispositions are sold at a premium silent malaise hurting crossroads a labyrinth of human relations rehearsing to be different to disentangle will mean disgrace to self love who cares them! I decided to laminate the goodness for the 'ME' I am!
the proclivity to stay unaffected is nothing new the sufferings the pains of people around making no impact to look beyond the self the servitude to matter and ego incapacitating the consciousness to ignite the true nature of we denizens the so called hyperbole and nonchalance do not heal people while the passion for compassion does how less is too less only the inner self can answer the indifference to them today will only reinforce the difference in our well being tomorrow accepting people as they are soaked in universal love dislodging all the grudges makes sense a big sense! Image credit : Google
the regalia now looks inorganic without you the histrionics around the hocus-pocus in the air made me crave for your presence to tide over the hollowness within to revisit the gallery of togetherness we created the restless cuckoo's chirp of the neighbourhood in the morning repeatedly said.. 'what you are waiting for cross the hedge right now' to recreate the mosaic left behind
Source: Mother’s (every)day
Source: the tamarind tree
Source: when silence spoke more..