Bad Poetry

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Oh damn.
We just laughed and we laughed.
Until we were bored of typing 😀 smileys,
and we started to fight.
Things started going down the drain
and my brain too started walking drunk,
you know going left and right.
I know this is bad poetry.
But haha, I hope,
at least if you would’ve seen it,
it would’ve made you laugh.
I am laughing, too.
But you have me blocked.
Things really shut down
between all those laughter riots
and our amateur jamming sessions,
didn’t they?
Why then, don’t I still have the heart
to erase those .wmv’s we recorded?
Maybe because, like day after night
and night after day,
after you left,
my beautiful mind has gone just haywire.
Stuck there, and my day still dawns at dusk.
So extreme, they were,
our insane sciencey discussions,
the earth stopped upon its axis,
that glazed winter froze,
the minute you were gone,
and life is like a glass ball,
filled with gel and glitters,inside which
the Princess now dances alone
amongst twirling magnificent snow flakes.
All night long.

Pictures of home – Part I

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Cliffette's Picture Journal

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There’s something about the “togor phul” (gardenia) and monsoon rainstorms, that leaves summer mornings around this corner of the world, incomplete. Sitting in my backyard, under the rain-shedding roof, the air, wet with the suffusive watery fragrance conquering the senses consolingly, taking slow sips of sweet mango pulp, your life feels complete, and whole in a way you can settle for, for eternity.

This scares me. I have to get away. I have miles and miles (maybe thousands of ’em to go) before I sleep.

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The Mountain Scene

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Cliffette's Picture Journal

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Fleetingly, my camera caught the glimpse of a tiny little cottage, probably meant to stay hidden from view, along the mountainous highway. Down below is the valley of Dehradun, and up here, surrounded by the heavy monsoon mist, this cottage reminded me of those sweltering afternoons in the city, with those tempestuous daydreams. I have always wanted a house like this, tiny, but more than what one needs, really, and exactly at a place like this. like a minuscule niche hidden from the world with fog and trees, looking down, I could’ve stared at life and death everyday. This is all I need.

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Protected woods of Delhi North

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Cliffette's Picture Journal

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Kamala Nehru Ridge, or the Northern Ridge, of North Delhi is one of first real woods I got to explore on my own. It is a reserved forest, but in the desperate need for recluse, and a desire to get lost in nature, I found these woods fulfilled the main purpose in its very essence.

As it is William Blake, the great illustrative English poet of the Romantic league of genius writers, said,

To see a world in a grain of sand,

And a heaven in a wild flower,

Hold infinity in the palm of your hand,

And Eternity in an hour.

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Captured and written on May 13th, 2015…

Sometimes you have to get lost to find your way.
But, if, where I get lost is so beautiful, I won’t ever want to be found. Just know I’m happy and I’m feeling inspired.

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The Fall Setting – Part II

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From Imaginia

Cliffette's Picture Journal

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Captured at 5.20 am, July 11.

Found this beautiful little flower, entirely drenched in rainwater from the showers of the night, right at dawn. Sights as these are everything I wake up each dawn for. Walking, barefoot, wiggling my toes at the moist grass, feeling the tiny water droplets nestled on the blades of grass, doesn’t it work better than pedicures? Of course it does and I love it.

That’s all for now, folks!! Enjoy.

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