Nidhi Katoch blog

I'm sitting in this corner of the room, unaware of my own self. The curtains on the window are staring at me. Every piece of this room is giving me questionable glances, without moving from their place. When I look at the vase, it asks me about the flowers I'd promised to bring. Bookshelf asks me to go through some pages and that fountain pen on the table pleads with me to refill it, to colour the whole stack of paper blue. I don't want to look at anything present here. Each and everything is asking me to move for them as if I'm the odd one here, a human who isn't supposed to choose their corner. How much I wish to become a thing, non-living, a commodity which people wouldn't notice when they enter here. I wish I could mix my skin with these walls, my eyes on the glass of the window. Stoic-Detached-Devoid. I try to gather all those drafts lying around me, but my heart wants me to tear all these into pieces. I can't bear the sight of this stack I've been

It was a summer night of June. I was walking on the terrace. A shower of rain had made the night humid as well. My whole body was smeared with petrichor. I wished for once everything would stop. These constantly moving vehicles on the lane below and those irritating sounds of fifteen second videos which were coming from the terrace of another building attached to ours. Sometimes I start to hate these videos serving us the entertainment we don't even ask for, we don't really want (and definitely I don't really need). Like every other person, I'm also guilty of recording and binge watching these videos. It's hard to ignore them as much as it's hard to stop inhaling the pollutants of the environment. The only way I could think of peace was to turn on my headphones. But music wasn't able to put me at ease. I failed to find something interesting to read on my phone. Then I decided to let the thoughts come to me and go. Whenever I can't control the situations