How Four Became One!

They say some people come to your life for special purpose. When I take into account my two years journey in Devagiri, 3 people, namely Resmi, Benat and Ansu played an indelible role. I don't actually remember how the four of us came together and became the birds of a feather.But it was an ultimate entertainer.There were hard times for us which made us feel like 'climbing the Everest' was much better option , but there was that cliche mantra deep inside each of us that said' this too shall pass' which made everything much lighter. We are bit problematic, dramatic weirdo group glued together with dollops of love under the spell of some unknown powers.We may be fallible, frolicsome and bothersome which we would rather take as a compliment.And this proved me that cultural variations doesn't matter when you maintain a special boundless culture in friendship.
Love always.❤️

A.C

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Recognition

'Happy Women's Day ' Those three words transformed her. It changed her imperfections into Perfections. It fastened her daily Chores. It gifted a smile to her Face. It motivated her Spirits. It gave rhythm to her Heartbeats. It made her Hairs dance. It increased the sweetness of her Lullaby. It brought back the glitters in her Eyes. It was the recognition from her Husband. A.C

Dear Gretta

Dear Gretta, Your songs are like a poem that was long forgotten, that gives a dejavu everytime I listen to it. It reminds me of New York City where you felt alone, where you were ditched by Dave and where you found yourself through Dan. You were never ready to compromise, you were fully conscious of what you were doing and never doubted your own instincts. Even when you felt a connection with Dan, you helped Violet to reconnect with him, bringing out the beautiful guitarist in her, which eventually got him back to his family. Yet you smiled for being the reason behind reuniting Dan with his family, you smiled even when you knew that this would leave you all alone again. You gave yourself truly into your songs that you could not tolerate the loss of its essence, the mere commercialization of it. You breathed music, danced and walked with it. Even when you knew that those are fleeting moments, the moments in New York City where every song in you...

Blame Me!

Blame me for not being you. For not reflecting your perceptions. For being me. For blooming the flowers of odd hues in my garden. For carrying a heart full of poetry and mind full of seasons. For being summer than spring, For being mist than rain, For listening than speaking, And for scattering than gathering. Blame me for deviating from the ideal human, Because my pursuits of happiness are different from yours. A.C

THE FORGOTTEN STORIES

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