His beautiful words,
her shining eyes,
cluster of appreciation,
nothing but a pyramid of lies.
The rushing-gushing volcano of blood,
erupting through her heart,
his pompous strokes of words,
nothing but a deceptive art.
The speeches hid the true colors of mind,
the quote got highlighted,”love is blind”
Fine it seemed when she saw his smile,
unknown to her, the Mask was about to fall,
Oh dear! just wait a while.
Their insanity was a problem to all, but their disorders were the pretty colors of fall.🍂
Their mouths were muzzled up by the pills, but their thoughts connecting, will give you chills.🍃
This time the opposites didn’t attract,
Coz the parallels did finally intersect.❤
Of course I am not talking literally! But about still moments which takes us on a ride to the past. PHOTOGRAPHS!
An invention by humans to relive the happy moments which definitely is better than the idea of a time machine. A time machine (not invented yet, thank God for that) is a thought which will allow you to change the past. It’s like rewriting the exam paper but you still won’t excel in it cause life is not that simple. It’s not food on a silver platter. Well, coming back to photographs, they are like the picture story of my life (more of a draft cause it’s not yet complete). I look at them then and look at myself now that how good my life has been and how much better I can still make it. I look at all those people I share my happiness with. I look at all those places I visited and the adventures they added to my journey. I look at all those funny attires my mom made me wear and how cartoonish my haircuts were. But above all I look how blessed I am that I was able to celebrate my life in such a grand manner. I thank my parents for always giving me what I deserve and not what I wanted.
“Pictures are more than smiling faces and weird expressions. They are more than any treasure. They are more of a playback button. One picture can take you to the whole documentary and archives of your life. They are the belief that happiness precedes as well as exceeds sadness. They are hooks to your angel-side.”
Today pictures are more of a hyped thing. People have forgotten that taking millions of pictures is not creating memories rather capturing a few things and a few smiles and leave the rest to your own sight is what is memory making. They click endless pictures and when they revisit them they have a blank in their minds.
For photographers it’s different. They live for those small yet grand pictures. For them they are the short narratives of life, a poetry in still, a blend of colours and happiness. You can see their captures and bring out something of your own. Your own perception of that image and a visit to that place in the palace of your mind.
Revisit the past, relive the moment, cherish the loved ones and jump back to the present to create the story of your life.
While going through the various posts on Instagram today I came across some brilliant writing and 90% of them was about love. The poems or thoughts may carry pain, heart break, or a cheating soul, they were still easy to ink on a paper. Spilling words about love, about the aesthetic it carries or the pain followed, its strangely beautiful to see that how a heart in love becomes poetic. The expression love holds is food to soul. It nourishes every cell in the body. Hatred and revenge doesn’t carry such power to inspire someone. It only destroys the within. Even the ‘fire’ which is supposedly a symbol attached to hell is now used freely to symbolise passion of love, flames of inspiration and success. Love coats the perception of life with a little bit of honey and cashews. Even if you have been hurt or dejected in love, it allows you to transform in ways you never knew can become a reality.
Love doesn’t have to be coming from the opposite sex. It is not something small, confined to only one person. It can be a love for nature, love for your parents, love for a pet or an animal or may be a love for oneself. It is every particle which creates the universe. It is the infinity which goes beyond time and space. Let it grow. Let it flow. It is beyond our definition.
Love is rhetoric.
Today while sitting by the window watching the world through the glass I thought about how billions of people are existing with their own stories and their own struggles. The pacing heads, running to achieve their dreams, climbing the ladder of success and purpose or some are merely working to survive, and here I am, sitting by the window thinking about my existence. My purpose, my story. How will I become the “one” in a billion who would want to know my story and my struggles. How will I become the voice of something important. Or may be I become one of those fleeting people in lives of others who will get inspired by my work, whose heart I might touch and make them feel good about their own lives.
This big question does pop up in your head once in a lifetime. Either you answer it right away or work towards merely “surviving”. Whether you answer it or not you will still be a part of the billion, but the difference remains is that you will be the one whose life will be touched soon by that “one” who did answer their question.