I have an intermediate bus stop, where I do my picnic, Waiting for the next bus, sitting on the grass with a book,

I know, however hard it seems now, remember you underestimate your capability to heal, You would love again, someone with all your heart,

How do you even love something, Knowing the unfair in how it treats you, With all feathered furry coated you, Enough food to fill up the stomach, and A so-called home to go back to, And on the opposite end, someone just like you sleeping, Right there in front of the shops, closed, In this storm, winds, heat waves,

All good things, all separations, All of your close relationships take time, All best friends were made over the years, All care, warmth, that feeling of knowing, Took years, and days of being for each other, Shared memories, worries, vulnerabilities, experiences,

It is summer, windy, lovely cool, windy summer. It was with a lively crowd, and somehow when the words stopped, all the tunes and the composed music made a lot of sense.

It was a normal dorm room you know, with the hospital blue colored walls, a Neem Tree leaning into the balcony, a lizard, a few spider webs, you know the usual room state which has been left empty for a while. There were a few writings on the walls, from the previous year seniors, who wished us luck for studies ahead. Just a thread of thoughts, and lots of BITS memories, also Happy BITSians’ Day :)

some of the times, maybe a few of the times, Right before sleep, there are thoughts, Chilly thoughts, most discomforting ones, There are no happy endings,

Open wide sky, With moon, and a slight glittering lights - yes okay stars,

After each sunset, a few hours of darkness, A new day, starting with a few rays,

:) sky is lovely, and if you decide to walk around observing it, probably you would find a pattern or two. And maybe some corollary, a derivation, or maybe some answers!

Not all journeys are ours to take on!

It is here a poem, or rather a sort of a story, expressing a feeling, a scenario, of being left behind or somewhere stuck, not knowing a way ahead

तुझे जीने को मिला है, उड़ने को मिला है, जिस उम्र मैं ब्याह दी गई तेरी सारी सहेलियां, वहाँ तुझे पढ़ने को मिला है,

कैसे मेरे आस पास के सारे घरों के नाम सारी बेटियो के नाम पे होते है। आज ही मां कह रही थी पायल जीजी के यहां कह देना, क्या कह देना था, ये जरूरी नहीं है।

Are you flowing along with waves, or are you somewhere among the tides or a heavy current down a mountain?

The next breath and so much importance granted to each one of our existences is an illusion developed by us to make this insignificant and powerless existence have some conscious control.

Some kid Shruti’s writings or, rather musings about just little things, like an ordinary morning!

Father’s are one of the strongest people I have known. Here is a thought about a kid growing up and trying to learn and find the same courage as his father had!

Struggles, layers, pains, humanness, all often lost when seen from afar :), does not mean we won’t recognise it, whether it is our own or of others!

Don’t be ever afraid of the conservative construct of how relationships should be, Every one of them is unique and it is yours to decide,