Nidhi Katoch blog

The mist spread and covered the view, Touching the tips of trees and embracing them. The whole town, down the hill, seems to be drowned in mist. Mist comes more forward, passes throw my skin and moves ahead of me to the far place. Today is Wednesday, not many people come here on weekdays. When I reached here and sat on the bench there was only one older man who was sitting here, who might be contemplating his life.  I've taken out my phone, to write something. Thanks to modern technology. You can't carry a notepad or a diary with you in public spaces or with family and friends, everyone starts to get interested in your diary. But when there is a phone in your hand they'll simply assume you are chatting with someone. Cool! Isn't it? You can also pretend you have a lot of friends to chat with ( just a stupid way to see things). I know I'm not a very interesting person to chat with.  I've hardly typed a few sentences because a weird thought is bothering me that I m

'I'm here! in the balcony.', I answered back to my mother. She asked me if I'd slept last night and I answered her again with yes. It seemed more like yelling than answering. The whole street would have heard us. It was a cold Sunday morning. The sun had just risen and was spreading its calm hue on the dull street. I'd always liked to welcome the morning sun with a cup of Chai. It had always cheered me up. But now, everything has changed. Or I've changed? Who knows? How will anybody know? I'm the one who built so high walls around myself, that nobody would ever be able to cross them.  I tried to bore my head in the book but in vain. I looked down below the street, a granny was taking her twin grandchildren for a walk. The kids were in the cradle. Unaware of the world, in their realm. A pair of sparrows were flocking around. A teenager was going to the temple, as it was his board year. I saw my mother feeding the neighbour's dog who is now her morning wal

 Dear reader, I'm taking a break from reading and writing. But I've already saved drafts of future posts here. So, the blog will get updated here from time to time. I have no idea what lies ahead, how and when will I get peace. I'm not going to bore you with my stupid rant here. Here's a poem I penned a few days ago while traveling back home. Blue skies are  no longer blue, The waters are rough, cold and of grey hue. Clouds shadowed my soul Destiny is playing foul Worms have covered my body Fairy has turned into a ghoul. I can't stop asking  for forgiveness Even when I'm already being forgiven. I don't know to whom should I turn my faith My cries, my prayers  everything seems to fade. Shall I ever get to touch  my share of rainbow and sun This non-stop rush still, noises are shunned.