Nidhi Katoch blog

It was the time of dusk, the time for birds to go back. The time of arrival of darkness. I met my old friend, a little blackbird. He was looking at me quizzingly as if questioning my presence there but soon came toward me perched by my window.  He repeated, “Even death has a heart.” to me.  [*The Book Thief (Markus Zusak) ] This quote stayed with me forever ever since I had read this book. But one thing is for sure people don't have one. There are a few elements in this world who just know how to take advantage of others. Either through crocodile tears vanilla-coated lies, or victim cards.  Even snakes shed their skin after a time but these people can never. For them, grapes are always sour. Instead of being contended with themselves, they choose bad-mouthing over the chest of the dead. After all, graves don't cry they can say whatever they want.  My little blackbird flapped his wings as if laughing over their pettiness.  He looked at the red-grey sky and asked me to embrace th

I was again on a solo trip without telling anyone, I picked up my backpack and just took the bus. I wanted to escape from situations, people around and most importantly me. I couldn't get the window seat, so the only option left for me was to either stare at people or scroll the internet. I decided to do both, according to the need of time. I checked my backpack again if I'd packed everything in a hurry. Funny how my bag is always packed. But something was missing, I couldn't remember what. I think I escape a lot. Or maybe it's just my way to feel relaxed. It's not easy to live with constant uneasiness. But whom should I tell? It's a web, puzzle, mirage, maze. And there seems to be no end to it. How am I supposed to share when even I couldn't comprehend this?  While thinking about all of this sleep overcomes my brain. When I woke up I was at my station. Now I knew I needed an extra jacket otherwise I would have shivered all the time. Himalayas are always unp