tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65570732889189577622024-03-05T09:41:18.040+05:30ScribblesAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.comBlogger72125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-76745656377254644112015-03-10T17:48:00.000+05:302015-03-18T13:45:44.977+05:30Colours and Surprises - North Bengal Village Fair
I knew it would be a village fair but wasn’t quite sure what to
expect.
Dusty fields
Would there be a big ground lined by stalls at its edges with a vast
near-empty space in the middle and a big wheel and other rides in one corner?
Or would it be a small area packed with people, shops and rides
where one will be pushed, pulled and compressed?
Next to the Temple
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-15296785134421856232015-03-08T10:53:00.000+05:302015-03-18T13:46:17.230+05:30Darjeeling and Mirik: A Drive by
What can you do in Darjeeling in a few hours? I spent the limited time
available to me lazing in the Chowrasta Mall - a flat land where roads meet,
usually described as the heart of the hill town - and taking a walk around the Mall
Road, which starts from the Mall and goes around Observatory Hill to join the
Mall from a different side. I also visited Mirik – another hill station in the
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-52113734116306863642014-07-08T07:48:00.001+05:302014-07-09T08:16:40.427+05:30Ladakh Diary
Snow and layers of mountains
After years of dreaming and months of planning finally I made my
trip to Ladakh in June 2014. The task had become rather inconvenient as I had
moved from Delhi to Mumbai more one-and-half-years ago. I went on an organised
tour, with a group of ladies. Reminded me of my hostel days of community
living.
I had heard landscape of Ladakh is breathtaking. I had Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-62204631779089910392014-07-05T14:46:00.000+05:302014-07-05T14:46:11.634+05:30Sound of Silence
Snowing on Holi
‘My small
piece of the sky and the sound of silence’ - the words were resonating within me
while visiting Tirthan Valley for the third time in a year. The valley is at
least a 12-hour journey from Delhi but each time the journey had felt smooth
(went in a car twice and a bus once). Could be because of the company (of
friends) or charming views on the way or simply my state ofAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-75429887864330700452014-07-02T10:20:00.001+05:302014-07-02T10:44:29.034+05:30Soloing in Pondicherry
My first solo travel was to Pondicherry in October 2013.
Earlier, whenever I have been a solo traveller, it was mostly because of my job.
Even then, I would find friends or acquaintances wherever I went. Travelling,
for me, was a thing to do with people. This way I bonded (or unbonded) with
many friends. Since I had moved into a new job at the end of 2012, I could not
take time off in the Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-65591340391718471872014-06-23T21:15:00.001+05:302014-06-23T21:22:19.447+05:30Back from Ladakh - Is this a Dream?
As
if I am in a dream. A travelling life in high Himalayas is not the dream. It's a reality which eludes me some times. It’s this life – a life in the private corporate sector,
working almost for financial incentives and promotions - which seems a dream to me.
My move to Bombay – more than a year-and-a-half ago – has torn me away
from that which I love very much – the Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-54268215047926142642014-06-08T08:29:00.000+05:302014-06-08T08:29:27.917+05:30Two poems and photography
Vacuum
Faces and words –
floating everywhere
covering all words
of an unknown way,
one captures
some of these to
frame them on
inner mind, so that
they become part
of your intentions,
then they go away,
leaving behind a vacuum
to be filled by<!--EndFragment-->
other faces and words
Are You a Dream or Am I?
As if I am a dream,
you are my reality;
you come into me
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-17980980623342773782014-06-08T06:57:00.001+05:302014-06-08T06:59:56.050+05:30stand out from the crowd Photo by June S. -- National Geographic Your Shot
Finally the world starts coming…
a Nat Geo editor selected this photo as a favorite in a submission on an assignment: 'The Animals we Love'
stand out from the crowd Photo by June S. -- National Geographic Your Shot
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-46719051247592934432014-05-30T07:11:00.000+05:302014-05-30T07:11:58.196+05:30Edge
There is a bouncy
ball
inside of me –
bouncing
left, right, up and
down –
it makes me edgy,
dreamy
and twitchy – walking
up
and down my living
room,
talking incessantly –
mostly
to myself, I reach a
point
The point divides
itself
into three or four
paths –
I stop and look –
unsure
which way is the
right
way or if there is
one;
if all is a matter of
choice –
how to make it; a
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-57157850054086438392014-05-27T11:43:00.000+05:302014-05-27T11:43:12.312+05:30Divine Intervention
Tears had dried up
I wasn’t mourning
for the love I cannot
accept, I stepped
near my window,
opened it – big,
round,
smiling, kind eyes
looked
up at me and said:
“hey, it is alright”;
Must be my personal
version of divine
intervention
that saved the day
for me, brought me
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-78969288173716773842014-05-03T08:08:00.000+05:302014-05-05T07:05:07.676+05:30The City
I walked the streets
of the city in the
heat,
while the rains came
and
washed me and
then its air became
pleasant – all the
while
pictures and words
were formed – some
came to get attached
to my mirror and
leaves, some spoke
to me and brought my
inner being onto
themseleves,
others got lost in
the
metropolis of crowded
millions; I got
busy with heartaches,
ambition andAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-3562903714567248652014-04-23T14:02:00.000+05:302014-04-23T14:02:24.838+05:30Now and Forever
I am repaying debts,
creating new ones –
for
others to repay
Meanwhile there is
a bird spreading its
wings to fold them
back
- again and again,
on its feathers are
written
words of wealth,
desire,
envy and fear,
its colours shining
bright,
people spot it from
a distance
I wait for it
to fly away;
now and then the bird
spreads its enormous
wings fully – so
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-70852592661960148362014-04-12T09:59:00.000+05:302014-04-12T09:59:01.265+05:30Equation
You know life is
tough
when you try to
change
an equation
and the equation
refuses
to budge
you read some lines,
hear some words,
take a stroll,
you try to accept
but you cannot; and you are
not happy
giving up, you neither
accept nor try to change
now you just smile
Photography and verse: Sanchita C 2014
<!-- Blogger automated replacement:Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-40324477982286522232014-03-14T22:49:00.000+05:302014-03-14T22:49:08.205+05:30The Shelter
It’s like a drug,
it’s definitely an addiction
what is it in you
that I loathe to come
closer to you but
hate being away for long?
is it love that makes me
sleepy, tires me in and out,
overwhelms me when I come away
but gives sweet dreams
and a glow on my face
when I am with you?
anything else is not enough
I simply want this – and only this –
day and night
Poetry Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-43012989239312104692014-03-01T21:53:00.002+05:302014-03-01T21:55:30.245+05:30A little bit of everything
I’m a little bit of anger,
I’m a little bit of desire,
I’m a little bit of brain,
I’m neither here, not there
I live everywhere, everyone belongs to me
Don’t pin me down
as a ‘type’; I don’t belong
to you and I understand
you don’t belong to me
I want you to take
me as I am, I will
take you as you are –
we will have a beautiful
friendship – if we Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-44304315228435775032013-12-28T07:06:00.000+05:302013-12-28T07:06:26.070+05:30Us in this Universe
A fraction of the moon
- half-lit, half-dark; and a
bright star or may be a planet –
at a bit of distance in the
violet-ish dark sky; somewhat
like you and me: together
up there, close to each other
but still far; shining but
threatened by limitless black
emptiness; hanging on,
singing songs of hope and future,
scared of what might befall
both or one of us if the universe
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-73643866598297101272013-11-21T21:00:00.000+05:302013-11-22T19:33:06.810+05:30Memories
The dark silhouette I
see
ahead of me and to
the
right and the left of
me –
rising from the
earth; a
few more layers of
blue-grey
ranges behind them
and
a hint of snow-capped
peaks
even further beyond;
there
are lines and
sentences
hidden in those and
in
the columns of clouds
scattered towards the
upper
edge of the horizon –
crowding
above some hills more
than the others,Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-55742529896718170212013-10-28T01:57:00.002+05:302013-10-28T01:57:59.463+05:30Finally, I Hear
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When you know how to be
happy with small, depthless things
and compare it with brooding
in endless heights,
you wonder which is more
important in the path to love
After searching for acceptance
when you know you have arrived
there is a fleeting feeling
known as happiness:
short-lived because
some other piece of
reflection will soon replace this
Your soul is still
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-27682316277198169712013-07-14T11:41:00.000+05:302013-07-14T11:51:19.257+05:30Sunshine
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-22262647243789742622013-01-13T00:01:00.000+05:302013-01-16T22:51:53.932+05:30the end of dreams
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-81513233610393732972012-10-13T19:31:00.000+05:302012-10-13T19:32:30.983+05:30Me next to the Moon
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-57146201411921700882012-08-19T22:53:00.000+05:302012-08-19T23:32:27.866+05:30Us in these Days
The mask is
gradually
slipping
from
sainthood,
a shadow
slowly moving
over wisdom
We are not
the people
I thought
we were;
the days
are not
the ones I
thought
they would
be
Hours are
almost full,
fine waves
of artistry
impregnate
seconds of doubt
which empty
itself
to
give way to longing
© Sanchita C Text and Sketch
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-8660887051906140072012-08-04T14:19:00.002+05:302012-08-04T14:21:01.110+05:30simplicity
Mouths moving
sounds originating
from those lips
hit my ear drums
the setting:
a chic restaurant,
appears out of focus –
like the background
of a picture
taken with a telephoto lens
then a realisation
hits from within:
everything is blurred
because I am an outsider –
I don’t belong,
I am too simple
for this atmosphere
I look at the glass of wine;
my mind before long
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6557073288918957762.post-12278328654662605432012-07-21T16:06:00.001+05:302012-07-21T16:06:32.742+05:30the room
sitting outside the room
wondering if I should go in
unsorted mind can't decide
subdued thoughts become alive
'the very best or nothing'
was my resolve - almost dissolving
now by growing laughter and booming
voices pouring out of the half-lit room
loud rhythmic music plays in my head
steer me on my 'chosen course'
'hey stay away' - it said '- 'it's a distraction'
'beyond the Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15009101176161709554noreply@blogger.com0