Just like her solivagant mind wanders and the soft vernalagnia colors her cheeks, rosy - poetry swells from her inside. What her camera captures, spins words of hope and despair in her.
Where the heart bleeds on to the paper, there springs poetry...
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The firecrackers sound in the distant horizon. But I'm well tucked inside my quilt. Bone freezing cold and stuff but my brain, As always is on autopilot and those sounds, Muffled by the glass windows, Bring forth eons of hidden memories. Gone are the days of shop hopping to buy cards, Greetings of various shapes and sizes, Maybe the best separated for the 'bestie'. Not to forget the glitter pens to address them. Those little packets of joy, Packed into a school bag, Innocent smiles on our faces, Lit up with a big secret to hide... NEW YEAR GREETINGS for all... The days shifted to nights and days, And in this cycle of years we all, Turned from cards to forwarded messages, From friendship bands to friend requests, And from childhood to being an adult. Lots of things changed for the better, Or maybe for the worst, who knows. But those little joys of the childhood, Are gone for good, well unless... We make an attempt to bring back, The personal touch to our new year. People around are bursting crackers, With a smile pasted on their face, And lines of worries on their forehead. Youngsters with bags slung are going to tuitions, Older people maybe jobs. Oh the poor college goes may even have exams. But who cares? The revelers will party, The poor may shiver and die in the cold. The world doesn't stop or turn around, For anyone as years flow by taking with it, A millions of memories snatched and looted, And bringing in a fresh horizon of opportunities, All for the new spirits to be olden again.
