This. Man. Is. Love.

You are the one behind my sleepless nights and dreamy days;

A true gentlemen with unmatched demeanour,

So new yet so familiar, so dramatic yet so plain,

With you, every day is a memory and every memory a fond one.

A Warm Oblivion

Nothingness is all around and all around is hope

The way I see it is the way it shows

Clear and well lighted, a place for both young and old

Shines in the darkness and hides in the gold.

Of Togetherness

I speak to you of togetherness

And glee 

And all things perfect

When you put on the very liberating Chanel No. 5

And the color that glistens brings out even better of your skin

Set forth on a journey that seems unending yet lovable

Time beats –

– And stops when he touches

Your essence breathes against his

And love blooms like an exotic red flower

Desperation yells and ticks over the very hungry

Longing for the warmth and

Some more

Of the same

Pure yet enigmatic

Crisp yet profound

Sweetness dwells inside of you

And gives you birth once more

Into the very hands of the one

You yearned for.

Tune into Love Me Like You Do by Ellie Goulding and celebrate this precious feeling.

Literature & Colours

Yesterday a fellow teacher told me to write, just write. She said, rather convincingly, that I need to let my heart free by venting it on paper. Sweet of her as the written word has always been powerful anyway. So a word of caution here, this could be several authors/colours in one, hence the title. 

I mull over American Literature a lot. A whole lot. When I read it for the first time, 'twaz a moment. I've been in awe of all those impeccable writers and poets and even critics. They did marvel in their respective fields. 

Left to Right: Plath, Hemingway, Faulkner, F again, P again, H again

Hemingway, for instance, has captivated me in his unimaginable spell. A man of few words and sophisticated attitude, this dude did actually rock among the babes then. Classic Hemingway!

Faulkner, former's counterpart, strived his way to the top and didn't pay any heed to critics or anyone at all. He was from the South and wrote about the life there in flawless extraordinarily descriptive manner. Light in August, read it if you may, legendary characters and brilliant plot. 

Plath, a hardcore nerd and free will woman, took me by surprise and I've been addicted to this ‘American Keats’ since. An intellectual, an editor, a romantic, a mother, she makes you think. The Bell Jar left me craving for more and I wrote my first Conference paper on her. 

Colours, as well, fascinate me a great deal. You tell me you bought some car or shoe or necklace or dress or simply a pen, my first question would be ‘What Colour?’

These brilliant hues add a touch of persona in everything. Why do you pick dusky blue over sparkle yellow, it’s a mystery in itself, isn’t it? Brown may seem to be the safest bet and pink gorgeously feminine. A tint of red might transform you from dull to sassy. White, on the other hand, just delivers the right amount of innocence. Black invokes class but brings along ease and thrill. Orange can put a curve on someone’s face. Green is subtle and rich with care for Mother Nature. Purple is sane and sensitive, quintessentially sitting between stunning crimson and compassionate violet whereas Gray is a practical person’s forever companion.

All in all, it’s amusing how mere scribbles set the entire aura and make you feel slightly weightless. The thoughts above, though regular, used to occupy a pretty space in the back of my head and I wouldn't have cared a penny if not for sheer delight!

Tune into L.A. Love by Fergie and sing along lalalala like a carefree bird.