Three windows with blue and white-striped curtains, a box-bed with seven cushions and a purple satin bedcover red carnations, book shelves, an old cupboard, some centuries old artifacts – a room in a king’s two hundred years old summer palace a reading table made from the woods of a tree that must had been born in the forests of Ooty the Britishers had left, yet their buildings stand strong all around the corners of the Commercial Street, Charing Cross and all across the Nilgiris. The room has a door that leads to the garden, facing the mountains at a distance pristine mornings, clear blue afternoons, cold mystic nights, kind humans, cheerful children, a white cat and a black dog with croaking frogs and two lost owls perched on some nearby trees the silence of the mountains, and a scared city heart with the fear of the dark a darkness that lingers peacefully as the essence of nature… Sometimes languages differ and humans feel clau...
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ReplyDeletelooking forward...the sensitivity regarding "expression through written words" touched my heart...:)
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