tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-256815682026-09-11T11:43:55.739+05:30For Those Times When The Brilliant Streaks of Madness Strike.Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.comBlogger119125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-53588140309764732082018-09-27T00:54:00.002+05:302018-09-27T00:54:42.346+05:30

Let’s take a moment to reflect what keeps us grounded. Let’s take a moment to remember those who we love. Is it their hauntingly familiar voice? Is it their achingly comforting shroud? Do we tell the ones we love how much we love them? Does our heart unanimously beat as one? Can you separate two mingling shadows? Or the frosty intertwining breath on a cold night? Do love and care mean

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-58404477130021110632017-11-07T17:56:00.002+05:302017-11-07T17:56:23.997+05:30

Look up. Mould. Work magic with your fingers. Weave. Illustrate. Sketch. Click photos. Sunsets. Sunrises. Salty air. Salty beaches. Salty kisses. Look up. Stars. Constellations. Night skies. Clouds. Haze. Shooting stars. Wish. Jump. Look down. Dew. Dandelions. Lady bugs. Freshly cut grass. Pond. Fish. Tadpoles. Water Lilies. Flowers. Peonies. Hibiscus. Mogras. Roses. More flowers. Crashing waves

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-31109488341499498062015-10-30T02:35:00.001+05:302015-10-30T02:35:40.017+05:30

Is it that everything changes and you don't? Or is it that you change and everything seems different? Is change good? Bad? Indifferent? I don't know. But I cannot deny that change is needed. It's necessary. It's the fundamental reason for survival. And evolution. The perception of change though, can be seen trivially enough to ignore it, or be seen as a life altering point and be made into a

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-37067953438666108432015-06-22T02:02:00.001+05:302015-06-22T02:02:50.523+05:30

New house New rules New room New room mate New lights New stories New view New breeze New bed New pantry New recipes New sofa New job New colleagues New projects New ids New interests New paintings New books New figurines New placements New views New learning's New news New work bench New traffic watching haunt New walking track New garden New pond New sunsets New address New town New everything

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-7676998961938817392015-03-13T02:56:00.002+05:302015-03-13T02:59:24.719+05:30

1992: Me to my teacher: “I’m shifting to USA” – Dreaming big at the age of 5 1994: “She is so little” – Hello, baby sister!  Struggling with English: My 3rd grade nightmare 1996: Library Membership – The gift that changed my life “The captain was unstoppable” – Leading from the front  “You are a Grammar Nazi” – The first accusation of many more to come 2005: The start of my

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-57068921410135632602015-02-10T11:11:00.001+05:302015-02-10T11:11:52.178+05:30

Each day we wake up, put on our masks and step out on to the world. We silently bear our tormenting thoughts, we smile at people we would much rather punch and we wave by to people we would much rather confess our feelings to. We turn to being vague and abstract when all we want to do is be raw, be free, be us. The need for appearances, the belief that the world is incapable of good, the

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-43582842531639494662014-12-29T02:36:00.001+05:302014-12-29T02:39:49.752+05:30

Sometimes, I forget how important you are to me. These lines aptly summarize who you are to me. 'You are not my star. You are my whole goddamn sky.' -- This year I will be more positive about myself. There is too much we take for granted. -- If nothing else works, take a nap. And then come back at it and give it your best  shot. -- She was his luminary, he was her craze. The barbed satin

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-18076053718405818412014-06-25T11:00:00.000+05:302014-06-25T11:00:00.314+05:30

Each little memory, each with a share Every little corner, staged another dare Every breath jagged, each beat cold Brittle and tarnished, remained her hold He walked away, torn and lost Her, he left behind at a great cost Each day difficult, each breath a sin Hope seemed lost, and chance seemed slim Every step meek, every minute told Time was running out, as the seconds did unfold He kept

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-41543912004505477342014-06-22T04:08:00.003+05:302014-06-22T04:08:46.015+05:30

All things beautiful and all things bold, All those tales which remain untold, Walk into this heart, frail and cold Show me love and the heart is sold.

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-24515871205972628802014-05-12T00:55:00.001+05:302014-05-12T00:55:59.037+05:30

The heart bleeds in haste farewell The eyes darken in an unglowing sadness Beauty that is lost, seems forever gone The heartbeat weakens, once and for all.

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-66778790789564983282014-05-08T21:26:00.001+05:302014-05-08T21:26:16.803+05:30

Amazed she turned and looked around. The first glance is always the most impacting. More lights than she had ever seen. More colours than she had ever imagined. More muted hues than she could ever hope to remember. "Brilliant", she mused. "Why did no one ever mention how beautiful this is? Why did they leave the beauty of the whole thing out?" Maybe those who saw didn't understand. Maybe they

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-71260339403013339242014-04-29T02:30:00.001+05:302014-04-29T02:30:32.054+05:30

Sleep called from behind those smoke drowned drooping eyes. The heavy lidded, demure gaze. Deep breaths raked her frail shoulders. The house darkened itself into an unending maze. Silent thunders broke through the window pane, The brief lightning followed, Each time the clock struck a new melodious game A cat meowed outside in the shadows A creaking footboard in an otherwise empty house, A dimly

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-77318866833188162742014-04-25T11:00:00.000+05:302014-04-29T02:31:10.587+05:30

Seduce me, she said. And I like it with the lights turned off. She was not ready to share her battle scars. Not yet.

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-75413254666266358442014-04-21T01:11:00.001+05:302014-04-21T01:11:36.598+05:30

The change. Windy, and sometimes unpredictable. Capricious. Silent at times but always beautiful. Change. The eternal constant in life. Vivid colours. Colors of joy but also sadness. Colours indicating the hardship that is yet to come. The testing times. The coldness. Winter is coming. Autumn. Vivacious and yet, morose. Twinkling yet calm. Autumn. She stood at the window, looking at the

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-34254292713568177022014-04-12T12:41:00.000+05:302014-04-12T12:41:34.347+05:30

Every & each time I breathe, And each sound you make, We'll work through these promises, And we'll work hard to keep them safe.. Each twirling around of her hair, Each ragged step on the stair, Fighting those demons and, Hoping that is what life is.. Each day a fighting means, To stay alive and to be seen, Each day a circumstance To wash away those sins.. For each heart wrenching scream,

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-57108473559267494102014-01-27T00:27:00.001+05:302014-01-27T00:44:35.506+05:30

He moved with her flow And swayed to her tunes Each in their own trance Lost to the moon She was his pied piper He was her beast They commanded each other Yet, independent each seemed He was haunted by her sway Her moves, her ways She was captive in his gaze His beauty, his craze He wanted her all for him She wanted the same The Gods planned otherwise They didn't share a name They took

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-16169933484675809942013-01-22T01:24:00.002+05:302013-01-22T01:24:45.501+05:30

Maybe that is what it meant to you A small time love affair An easy way to forget the past.. By loving a girl with flowers in her hair...

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-81006304672792735842013-01-21T01:31:00.000+05:302015-02-10T16:21:10.233+05:30

Hope twisted it's calming spirals of smoke And curiosity got the better of me I lived my bad boy dreams And somewhere, the future I could see I know I want to wake up to your face every day And make you 2 am sandwiches Be your support, your rock and your dream And keep living in the warmth of your glow..

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-12941522119802871582011-10-30T23:40:00.000+05:302011-10-30T23:41:12.274+05:30

It takes time to walk them steps again. It takes time to get back to writing, when you don't remember how to hold a pen. It takes time to think when your mind is everywhere and yet nowhere. It takes time. And effort. A conscious, time consuming effort. But it feels nice to be back. Even when you long to have him run his silken fingers on your soul.. Music is how you interpret life.

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com3Vashi, Navi Mumbai, Maharashtra, India19.079355 73.00003319.0643485 72.980292 19.094361499999998 73.019774tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-3635276992722853122011-10-23T02:14:00.001+05:302011-10-23T02:19:32.700+05:30

Take me back a hundred steps. Let me re-think each step before I move back. Let me change the colours. The blacks become red The blues shine coppery yellow gold The orange hues into deep crimsons The yellows turn lime The slivers of pink turn grey.. Let me change my outlook, one step each time Let me take hate and turn it into fate Let me change violence to joy Let me colour the pain to hues of

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com3Vashi, Navi Mumbai, Maharashtra 400703, India19.079355 73.00003319.0756035 72.9950975 19.0831065 73.0049685tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-74997365420180125012011-08-29T01:05:00.002+05:302011-08-29T01:11:29.726+05:30

Dark inky blue The heart went beat beat beat Dripping sweat drops The heart went beat beat beat Each stroke demanding The heart went beat beat beat Each stroke a blur The heart went beat beat beat The heady feeling The heart went beat beat beat The swooning rush The heart went beat beat beat The fiery blur of strokes The heady colours Painting... The heart goes beat beat beat...

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-56641559096676756682011-05-10T00:54:00.004+05:302011-05-10T01:13:57.739+05:30

It has been a while since I last wrote. Not the intermittent poems. Or the couple of liners. Like really wrote. I lost my fans, my readers and my link to blogosphere!Yeah, the corporate world took over. Ah! It is an easy excuse as well. I took a hiatus, a sabbatical and I spent a lot of time understanding so many things. A couple of them listed below - (in no specific order, mind you)Ex's push

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-81389876083741700442011-02-25T15:05:00.000+05:302011-02-25T15:06:10.539+05:30

White clouds strewn against an azure blue sky.. The wind sweeping through the hair.. The sun beating down on the hammock as you gently sway with the breeze.. You reach squares, and then some.. But you take it in your stride.. And let the sunset talk to you as the waves crash gently at your feet..

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-54252293269412289472010-06-27T12:04:00.002+05:302010-06-27T12:07:14.003+05:30

Have you ever wanted to sit on a hammock and keep sipping on the coconut water while your toes dug into warm white sands? Ever wanted to hear the sea crashing and foaming at your toes, while the sea gulls sang songs of their joyous past? Ever wanted to sit and have the spray of the sea beckon and invite you to join the sea in its glorious dance?I did. I always do. I always will.Being the beach

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25681568.post-5653478856511121652010-04-15T13:15:00.003+05:302010-04-15T14:24:41.980+05:30

Clandestine and warm..His seductive gaze burnt her..The glazed eyes and the speckled hairHis seductive gaze called her..The random path of sweat..His alluring scent burnt her..The smell of honey and musk..His alluring scent called her..

Aninditahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00150173859381860919noreply@blogger.com4