When I was a treasure, when you held the map
Dearest luv, Temperatures have reduced by 10° here, thanks to the rain. But I was wrong about Ganga turning muddy in effect. Untarnished, unblemished she flows with the same divinity as described in our mythology. Why do we call our literature 'mythology'? Myth, in its very essence means lies. मिथ्या, that which is fiction. Our... Continue Reading →
Dearest luv, My mornings begin before sunrise here. Simply because you just can't afford to miss a sunrise in the mountains. Do you paint? I wonder why I don't know the answer to that already, it's so basic. Anyway, the closest analogy I could find for the today's sunrise was God trying to decide what... Continue Reading →
He’s the writer. She’s the (re)blogger.
He strung his guitar. She cleared her throat. Love was in the tune.
He got a haircut. She charged him for it. Love was in the lack of obligations.
He was cold and indifferent. She was loud and mean. Love was in cold fires.
He was the silence of the mountains. She was their solidity. Love was Himalayan.
He ate his lunch. She made him cook for her. Love and starvation stayed separate.
He worried for her. She dared, made him proud anyway. Love was in each other’s goals.
He was impatient and calm. She was sensible and impulsive. Love was in a mismatch.
He stayed headstrong and won. She stayed heart-strong and won. Love was win-win.
He picked goodness over luxury. She picked joy over prosperity. Love was happiness.
He bought a dog. She bought a dog. Love was 2 people and 2 dogs.
He gave his money away…
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