Evening, as slow thy placid shades descend; I watched them, the shades of evening wrapping around me like those words…echoing my silent thoughts, like whispers under the canopy. Many a thought dance in me : why did I feel this need to create my own space and lay out my life open ala a book whose chapters promise a trivialising journey through mediocrity around me, a reluctant move into the world, which I dnot want to be active a part of, yet to crave the exoticism from it. well, I may sound ambiguous at this point of time, or shall I say am indulging the ‘Fence-sitting’ behaviour ? A few conversations I had to encounter either over a cup of coffee or while driving back from the meeting, are swirling in my head, like the wind is making love to those fragile bamboo chimes and unlocking many stories of the evening. If one nestles warmly in the cocoon of her thoughts, her insecurities, her dreams and aspirations, without letting self be disrupted by the external world, and feels so much at home, does that lead as a legitimate personality type- A loner ? why do men always emphasize the fact that as a woman I need a man, either as a device of companionship or as a guidance angle to the unpredictable situations that ruffle my feminine tresses and leave a wrinkle on my forehead. I tried to capture my moods in poetic a form….

‘You walk into the room,
you find me alone with you,
your thoughts come,
in the shades of blue,
like flocks of birds,
choreographed in patterns,
reflecting in the backwaters
of mine,pirouetting in the
swirls from the bowl of china,
me alone and solitary!’

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