Delightful reveries

Don't they have stories to tell? The ever transient skies, Changing from blue to pink to purple and black, They contain clouds of stories, willing to burst forth , But no one to listen, They sing songs of rage, Only the thunder applauds, They cry out in agony,  And lightning strikes. The leaves that fall off trees, And drift as the wind takes them, Seem to shy to tell their stories... The wind that whispers words into your hair, Carries a treasure trove of stories, Breathed into it by the trees, the sand and the life around. Don't you have stories to tell? Of the stuff you are made off, What made you you, And what you mask in those liquid eyes and behind that smile?             ~Ashwini.V

The wind whispers occasionally, on a silent,starry night. The rythmic tick-tocks of the clock and the peaceful breathing of others sleeping quietens the mind. An occasional thudding of a door somewhere, and a car roaring to life can be heard. But the night has only begun. As the night gently turns darker,murkier, the world around becomes quieter, And the sound,of our own breathing can be heard. The night begins to get chilly, and the wind becomes playfully still, as the night progresses to its darkest phase, before dawn. And yet the chilly wind whispers occasionally, on a silent starry night.

Hey there beautiful people! On this beautiful winter day, as I type, Sunlight streams in through the windows onto my desk and seems to melt on my face. I feel good until after sometime..."O my God! My Face is a furnace!! I need to get away from here! Nah too lazy for that😂 Let me just pull those curtains together. Aah.. that feels way better. Sweet Relief! So today I'll talk about some warmm winter myths that need to be busted. Like Right Now. #1 The warm snuggle - Winter time= Snuggle time in Blankets! Oh I'm just loving this warm softy blanket!. No!! We haven't got time for that, honey! Get up and go do your work! Winter time=Assignments time=Preparation for exams time=Very less time to snuggle lazily.😞 #2 Coffee by my side , Novel in my hands and wrapped in a blanket. Reality=Impossible. If you are wrapped in a blanket , your hands will be inside the blanket. If your hands are outside you feel cold. Somehow manage to smuggle a book. Fine. Steaming Coffe