Nidhi Katoch blog

I saw the white Bougainvillea vine on the rear gate of someone's  house and ran toward it to click a photograph. This is what we, the slaves of technology do. We first click the picture and then praise the beauty around us. Yeah! I'm ranting like those people who constantly nag about the cons of technology and can't live without it for a moment. After all, it's this internet access which has allowed me to share my thoughts with people all around the world. Then I started  to ask my friend to try different angles to get a perfect picture of me with that vine. Yet the best picture was the one with my back on camera, which I'll share under the hashtag of summer aesthetic. Flowers have always been the part of our lives. From literature to temples, from greetings to the gift to loved ones, from our birth to doom, flowers walk with us. These little petals of colors fill our lives with colors. We compare the smile of our love with the blooming flower and our sorrow with un

All three of us were having coffee in the cafe and were laughing at something. But my eyes were only following you. I looked at your face, 'How happy you are today!' I thought to myself, as if trying to convey my message through my mind.  I knew that the day after tomorrow you'd be home and I would remain here. Stagnant! Oh! How much I wanted to follow you like I used to do when I was a child. I had never felt so jealous of kids, the way I felt today. Kids can cry anywhere, at any moment, while we adults are supposed to behave. I wanted to hold you but I didn't. I knew you would get to know my feelings even with my single touch. This could make you sad, more than me. I didn't want to take that risk. After all, You're Mother! Far more experienced and smart than me.  I turned my gaze to my twin. I wondered if she was thinking the same! Our eyes met and she nodded with a small smile. I nodded back and became a part of the conversation again.

The carpet of pale leaves is lying on the ground. I'm listening to the rumble of leaves. These old-pale leaves are leaving their place to be filled by new ones. Don't these old leaves feel bad that soon they will be crushed by someone? Don't they realize they are nothing more than trash on these busy roads? Who can understand the cycle of life more than them? Aren't we like these leaves? Doesn't our life resemble the life of these leaves? Useless, detached, thrown when our season ends. Don't know why I'm feeling sad for these leaves. Pessimism doesn't leave us so easily. But I also believe Optimism and pessimism go hand in hand. I should see the positive side, because with the fall of those old leaves I can see more green ones, more space for new unborn leaves. More flowers on trees. After all, March is the month of warmth and flowers. Month of endings and preparation of new beginnings. Maybe I should also shed my grudges, my anger, my overthinking and w