Random Contemplations

"Beauty is everywhere" we say Yet define it, we cannot. Byron idolizes the woman Wordsworth, nature English teachers read poems "Words are beautiful!" they say Historians admire crumbling caves and rooms While we hang paintings on the wall We look outside. Out the window; of ourselves "The World may be harsh, but it's beautiful" We say. Then look in the mirror At the figure standing there Suddenly, beauty disappears! And ugliness remains. "Appreciate beauty", we say Then are we a flaw, an exception? Saying, "Beauty dwells not within me" And yet, we claim, "Beauty is everywhere"

  When I was young, A wee little lass, I dreamt of things beyond my grasp Of floating in space Of being on stage Living innocently like I lived back then I had those huge dreams (And little ones too) Which all youngsters my age had I always thought— "It'll happen! Why not? For in fairytales, dreams always come true." And yes, they did. For my dreams were small And my parents made them all come true But time and tide Never stopped, went on As I grew, matured, not that young anymore And now I think— "Were those dreams not meant for me?" Or simply a path I never pursued And those few dreams, Which still seem feasible Are goals, not dreams. I work towards them Change was inevitable New dreams replaced old Now my fantasies, far different from before I dream of joy. Of friendships and family A reflection of the changes in me But what about the past? Those naive dreams The culmination of a rich imagination Some, I forgot  Some, I gave up But some I still cherish, I dre...

I'm grateful for the air, though it may not be clean Grateful for nature, though it may not be green. I'm grateful for the sun even though it makes me sweat Grateful for my food, though it may not be fresh. I'm grateful for my work, though it makes me lose my mind Grateful for my health though it's not always the best. I'm grateful for the people 'round me though they have their faults Grateful for my flawed life, a precious gift, all mine.

 There are a number of books which never fail to surprise me. No matter how many times I read them or how prepared I am, they always leave me astonished. And although this list keeps on changing as I read more & more, The Girl on the Train is always in the Top 3. It's arguably one of the best-known books to bibliophiles & although it has a lot of mixed reviews, I really like it. For starters, I was quite confused on my first read. And if I find a book confusing, yet can't help but read on, I almost always end up liking it. I also like that the story was told from the perspectives of 3 starkly different, yet surprisingly similar characters. It helps uncover a bit of the mystery & adds to it at the same time. The layers of depth prove to be an engaging read & gives the story complexity, which is an essential part of human nature. According to me, the best books are those in which you sympathize with the characters for one chapter & hate them the next. Anyone ...

 Meg sat on her chair. She stared at the blank notebook in front of her, her mind void of any ideas. She crossed her legs & rocked back & forth. After a moment she closed her eyes...& let out a huge sigh. Meg was a budding author who always came up with amazing new ideas for her books. Her friend once described her mind as a room full of the most fascinating things. But the room had been locked for almost a month. And no matter how hard she tried, she just couldn't get it to open. At first, she hadn't given it much thought. But as the deadlines & bills payments came closer, she became frustrated. She closed her eyes again & ransacked her brain. There had to be something, ANYTHING to write. Ring Ring ! Ring Ring!  Her eyes flew open & she jumped up. She glanced at the coffee table. "Oh." She reached over & picked up her phone. "Hello?" "Am I talking to Meg? The writer?" "Yes. Who's this?" "Inspiration, ...

It's a bustling afternoon. The air is getting chilly, marking the start of winter. In the west, the sun starts disappearing below the horizon & the orangish-golden light starts fading away. Amidst all this, a soft glow pierces through the growing darkness, sending colorful rays of light in all directions. Within an hour, every window & every balcony on every street is adorned with dazzling lights. The vivid red, green, blue, yellow & pink lights stand out against the pitch-black night sky. Colorful clay diyas, beautiful lanterns of different shapes & sizes & intricate rangolis add to the dazzling splendor. The mouth-watering smell & sight of ladoos, chaklis, karanjis, shankarpale & chiwda fills the air, making our tummy rumble. This is Diwali, the festival of lights. It was originally celebrated to mark Lord Ram's return to Ayodhya. However now, it has become an occasion not just to clean & decorate our house, but to light up our achromatic life ...