Nidhi Katoch blog

Last night, I was looking for the  lost documents on my bookshelf,  That's when my hands got the old diary.  Then I read the pages of past,  spilled ink, unsaid feelings, incomprehensible signs, meaningless words,  left out spaces and cutting marks.  There are some blank pages,  which I had left to complete our story,  The old and dry petals of rose,  the one you gave me as a mark of our love; are still there.  The rose which I tried to keep alive for days and nights, but it died,  and left behind these dried petals,  And the story, 'incomplete'. 

My heart chastises me for letting the hatred bloom in me,  Bad blood, envy, bitterness and The incredulous feeling of  'I'm supreme'.  The fire of wrath is blazing,  Care, respect, sympathy are freezing,  Love has turned cold,  I'm a living being But, the life in me is fading.

I pick up the stone and smashed the head of my opponent,  I take the stick and beat the undesired component,  I reply furiously to make  that chatterbox feel down,  I make that cunning person feel shy with my single frown.  And with these thoughts I'm sitting here alone,  With an innocent smile on my face  the only thing which I own. 

Why are you so angry, dear wind,  Throwing tantrums on us,  Our fields are on verge of harvesting,  My dalhia is experiencing its first summer,  You pair up with clouds And bring heavy showers and hail,  Can't you hear the little plants' wail?  You come with thunder,  when sky is grey,  on the other side of the vale,  falls the sun's first ray, You left us wondering,  What just happened?  You left us with broken leaves and crushed flowers,  And made us realise,  Sunrise is always beautiful after the darkness of war. Pc- Atul Bhandari

I'm stuck in the middle of the chaos of my thoughts, keep turning all the night,  I try to say my heart out, but the room echoes and cries with me and frights.  There comes a firefly who is flying over my head,  in this damp and dark season she always find a  way to enter my room and to my bed.  She speaks mysteriously and silently,  there's a magic in her glow,  After leaving the message of hope,  She makes her a way to go,  to the land of deliverance and delight.  The sun rays fall over my eyes,  I'm back from the dreamland,  and there's smiling the blue sky. 

Nights in hills are so dark and silent that you can feel scared with the rustle of leaves. It always happens that you are wandering alone in night and suddenly bamboos come in mood of talk. And their shrill talk easily makes you feel uneasy! Why on the earth they have to talk at this hour when all other trees sleep silently.  When you move further then howling of fox add music to the song of cicadas. Sometimes dogs also sing their sad Raagas at night which you can sometimes confuses with that of foxes if you're immature to the rules of hills.  If you are lucky enough you'll get to listen the cries of cats. Old people say crying of cat is bad omen. How can this be bad when they are just asking their partners to spend night with them. Well, after destroying your night sleep these cats come to your house, in the morning, with their innocent meow and you forgive them!  Then, comes the hooting of owl, song of cuckoo and other nocturnal birds. Few sing to attract mate, few as alarm t