Little by little ; one travels far.J.R.R.Tolkein
Writing is something I enjoy the most; be it quotes, poetry, scripts, long birthday letters, small stories or as simple as writing my diary. The journey towards this blog was not easy. I never knew I could write something of my own till a few years back; I was content on reading books. But one birthday, encouragement arrived in form of a beautiful journal and soon I was scribbling small pieces, rebuilding my fictional worlds in there. My friends were amazing enough to encourage me through my development and today, I am the most surprised to see where I have came.
This blog, however small, is my home, my haven, my own piece of heart and is dedicated to all those who nudged me to write, write and write some more.
Besides writing, I find comfort in presence of books, music, rains, sunsets, chai, friends and dark aesthetics. I would really, really appreciate if you guys can check out my blog below. I confess I do write occasionally; ideas and inspirations hit me all of a sudden and I find myself typing furiously but I am always satisfied with what I end up creating so I actually like this pace. Thank you for visiting, it means the world for me.
MY LATEST POSTS:
What actually goes on in your mind when you simply do nothing but stand in the rain, I desperately want to ask, Do you laugh while forgetting about what was bothering youjust a minute before the rain came down on you?Or do you smile silently like a fool in lovebecause you can’t contain the blooming…
In another universe somewhere far away,where phones and social media doesn’t exist,we write letters to each other on yellow parchmentswhich smell like earth and wood and nature. We write of angst, of turmoils, of guilt,of yearnings, of serendipitous moments,and lastly of the human mundaneness;each curve of alphabet, heavily marked by the agonizing pain offiniteness which…
Chai, not tea.For tea somehow reminds me of the polished tinkering glasswares, cream jugs, perfectly squared sugar cubes and dainty little silver stirrers and spoons. (The entirety of English novels devoured by me till now are to be solely blamed for this.) Chai is less about the formality, and more about the moment it is…