I am a nocturnal echo hanging by the thread. This is a traditional recipe made in many kayastha homes in Uttar Pradesh.

I, trapped in it. Dreams, snatched and locked. Future, bound and dark. Hope, feels like an ugly word now. I do not hope to get out. Belief, is a beautiful word. With miserability, helplessness, negativity, comes hope. With conviction, dedication, perseverance, comes belief. I believe I can escape. The belief will come true. Only to be brought down again.

The Many Aakaars of Dev Bhoomi- In Light of Contemporary Poems. 8220;The crevices are often so deep, And the edges so very luscious. Her hills are missed by me, And the cool dark peaks too. Hellip; Read More Five Essential Summer Poems.

Tomorrow, we will celebrate our eight-years wedding anniversary. We plan to return to San Francisco City Hall where we married to revisit that beautiful, fateful date.