An account of my days in Mcleodganj. 7 Nivedita and the last days of April. While sitting in JJI Exile Kitchen today, and devouring another bowl of Thukpa, the month of May has been running through my mind. While Jay started singing so.

The Saddest Man in the Room. Originally posted on Sink and Float. The child flung against the cliffs, finally seeking refuge between cracks in the mountain. The scene shifts to fallen room wreaking of cigarettes and a sudden winter cold. He sits solemn on a chair with his heart in his mouth thoughts ablaze and a soul too weak. Not bounded by ropes or by cries of passion, the man wonders of distant hopes and asks if he will smile to the stars or glee to bees? Is the art .

Writings from the dark side of life! A man in love. Tell me of a man in love,. The uneasiness he has inside of him,. Tell me of his affable dove,. She, who has stolen his heart from him,. Or must I know what is on his mind? Within the dark room of his memories,. Where every feeling had to bind,. Taking him through those ecstasies. To love, to hate, or just a little late,. True love we find once in our life,. Indeed some people have to wait,. Through their lives to find life.

One evening, as I sat at the veranda sipping my tea and smoking my cigarette, the colours and textures in the sky caught my attention. I rushed to the window and captured the moment. It was my first click since I got here . The wind blowing, the beautiful sky, pleasant weather, as the minutes rolled by the shades only got better right until the last ray of the sunlight hit the Dubai Marina skyline through my window.

A little bit of me, with a little bit of you. A little of the old mixed with the new. A little too loud, a little too shy. A little grounded and a little high. A little bit of sad and a little bit of laugh. A little bit of evrything i carry in my heart. To cry yourself to sleep. A martyr to it or not, the thought of it makes you cringe. Saddens your heart to no end. You beg it to stop.