Skip to main content

Walking by your side...

Of the many lil
squirrels scurrying
past us.


The beige, black
birds, twittering
by us.


Amongst the dense

green foliage,
surrounding us.


We chose to walk
this path, one
summer's afternoon.


You held my hand
though, not for long.


Of stolen kisses,
you never took.


Of the surprisingly
gentle-warmth of
the sun on us.


Of the things that
we spoke about.

Of those things,
we did not.


Of being content
just by your
presence by my
side.


I smile now,
as I will later,
always
walking by your side.

Comments

  1. really sweet...
    and thanks wor blog rolling me :)

    ReplyDelete
  2. Simple yet effective.
    i liked the way your presentation went.
    Me have some surrealistic experiments.
    MAN IN PAINTING SEES THE WORLD...

    ReplyDelete
  3. Nicely written....wanted to tell that i am back to regular blogging:D

    ReplyDelete
  4. well, someone's style of writing has changed a lot lately!
    I wonder why! **wink wink**

    -I

    ReplyDelete
  5. really good...keep up the great work going...do read my blog wen u find time n post comments

    ReplyDelete
  6. @The Walker
    Hey thanks for stopping by...how are you?

    @ man in painting
    Thanks& i like your open ended way of writing

    @ Sahefa
    hallo! how are the holidays going?

    @impressionist
    hehehe!!! you know why na...

    @d sinner
    thanx

    @ Rajesh
    Thanks for stopping by.. will read yours soon!

    ReplyDelete
  7. seconds man in painting...simple yet effective

    ReplyDelete
  8. Hi ..

    Feeling as I'm reading Lucinda William's lyrics, cool!!


    This ono, surprisingly
    gentle-warmth


    Innovative!!

    ReplyDelete
  9. mm..wery romantic & fulfilling...!

    ReplyDelete
  10. short crisp and sweet. Brilliant expression!

    Cheers!

    ReplyDelete
  11. Vintage Nikis.....

    I had a gr8 time going through this one.......

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

GO ahead, say it out loud!

Popular posts from this blog

#Sorry not sorry

I feel sorry for ‘Sorry’ – such an abused term. When you come to think of it, it is just a word, right? It holds significance in some instance and at times, it is a mere excuse. But we humans absolutely love it as an excuse, don’t we? I use this term a lot; I mean a lot! I think of myself as a kind being, and hence, if I happen to push or ignore (deliberate), I say ‘sorry’. I say sorry for things that may not need a ‘sorry’. I say ‘sorry’ to people I am not really feeling sorry for (don’t read this the wrong way). In short, I say ‘sorry’ a lot like I have already admitted. It is my ticket to moving on, a ticket to redeem myself for mistakes and sometimes, tinged with slight sadness (maybe).


But is ‘Sorry’ the right word? Mean, is it even appropriate? Like they say, first you commit the murder and then say sorry. What is the point of it? I would say nothing. Sorry – the term originated from the West Germanic term Sore that evolved to Sarig, meaning pained or distressed. It is also known…

Mind vs the heart

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Picture courtesy: Google. Only for representation purpose.
Standing on the highway, Roads leading both ways to somewhere, I stand still and wonder, Where do I belong?
The soothing lullabies of the green mist fairies call.  With promises to wrap me in the cool calm fog, Holding me in wet, gentle caresses, lulling the storm within. 
The call of the shrill, salt-laden sea sirens,  from the sun-baked rocks, Pull me back To join them as they make me one, in the fathomless abyss of wonders unseen. 
I lament my fragile being,  Born with one heart, not two, Torn between the ebb and flow of waves, And earthy scents in muddy dew. 
Both offer me refuge,  Cloaking me whole in their embrace, Dust to dust, flesh to flesh and soul to soul. 
In this battle between the mind and the heart, The heart but loses steam,  Leaving me stranded on a path to nowhere, never to be seen. 
My mind has been wrought with depression and all things crappy. This is a result of binge-watching a…

I Wonder What Ants do on Rainy Days…

Source: Google Images
On days when the sun has abandoned us, hiding behind the grey, moody clouds. Do they sit inside their hills and wonder out loud? Do they stare outside at the rain, measuring the raindrops, letting thoughts splotch all over? Does the earthy petrichor take them down the memory lane? Or are they content with what nature has to offer? It is a part of their lives, isn’t it? They dredge up foods daily, diligently build their hills, even if it is to serve their queen, only to enjoy it on days like this, no? Maybe they do take stock of things, of their bearings. They ought to sleep it off, take a day to rest or do they lament on the lost time?
Unlike me.
When I gaze out, a gazillion thoughts fly by; some worthy of the pen, some so disturbing that I often question my sanity. I like the grey skies though. They seem like textured canvases waiting for me to scribble something. The lazy raindrops wetting the streets below and casting a temporary stain on window ledges bring a…