World of Small Things

Dear  Readers, I'm waiting for an old friend. I've been waiting for a while. It seems that this comrade of mine doesn't reciprocate the fierce eagerness that I have to meet him. I don't remember his face too clearly.Like the radiant full moon disappearing behind enigmatic night clouds, my pal's face had faded from my memories. I think everyone's mind has an attic. Memories,like fresh,glistening photographs, Polaroids and films, flutter and settle in the attic ,until they turn into the sweet colour of sepia. Sometimes they float down clumsily from the lofty tops of sepia skyscrapers;like dried scarlet leaves from stiff autumn trees,making me fly into a furious,but silent and pleasant fit of nostalgia. I've compiled the most precious items from my 'attic' into this infinite book of  intangible pages.  Clouds whiz by me,reminding me that I was several thousand feet in the air,in a frugal,aquiline airplane. We duck and swerve below the cottony fl...

"I am too fond of the stars to be afraid of the darkness"..... Dear Readers. A warm feeling of homecoming overwhelms me when I address you. I was turning the non existent pages, that so appropriately arranges the random thoughts that rain down from the tempestous abysses of my mind.I rewind to my last post - 'Kaleidoscope'. I find it amusing how our minds are so much similar to the quaint device.We keep turning a kaleidoscope and when and stop only when we see an unusually attractive pattern ignites our fascination.Similar to that, we keep tossing and turning our mind our efforts give rise to a thought that sets our imagination ablaze. It is at moments like those when I come to my blog to spill these thoughts,to prevent them from diminishing into mere fading reminiscences. As I sit in the balcony,the dusk is slowly dying ,bleeding darkness.The last of the light was scattered in the sky. A scarlet and lilac hue now took over. I heard thunder in the distan...