The song plays slowly, while I sit in my balcony harmonica in hand.
It was a long time back, a time that seems lost now, that I'd told you this was my most favourite thing. Sitting here like this, trying to pick lost memories in the dead of the night.
1 comment:
All your posts, Sir, are very introspective and thought-provoking; redolent with a sense of loss and hence,very beautiful. i have been reading them for a few months now and the fact that you have not posted anything since November last year, makes me apprehensive that perhaps you do not intend to write any more. Pray, continue to write because one good thing that the information revolution has achieved is the opening of a realm where people don't necessarily have to be powerful or mighty to be able to express and share. and you write not just well but with the such sincerity that it seems that you choose each word of every sentence with ineffably great passion. well, am sure there are several other readers of your blog who feel the same way. so, do write.
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