
Originally posted on Blogger on Sep 11, 2016
Sharing my connectome
Down the lane, there is a house; small; but big enough for two people in their late sixties. Decayed in love of their children, they hold hands to see each other. The streetlight colors their porch; ochre in sepia. Perhaps the perfect colour that fades like the roses they found in each other’s diaries.
They crossed their paths and drew a lineAnd a line was crumbled in my palm,For what I should make of it?When it is yet to mature!I know not neither love nor pain,Or maybe too drunk to decipherThese were all a mystery to meTill you showed up!Now I know loveNow I…
Ever since childhood I am fascinated towards the window seat. I would run as if in Olympics, firmly grab the handles of my school bus and would throw anything; my water bottle or bag or sometimes even a friend to have the seat reserved for the next 45 minutes! Though…