Nidhi Katoch blog

Late at night, the room filled with TV light; an old comedy show was on, and I was trying to find the sense of familiarity, wondering if I had left some memories behind. Last week, when I finally went out, I saw some old houses, and they started to remind me of things that were lost somewhere in the track of memories. Healing places are the places where one witnesses suffering and death, the ultimate truth. Medications don't guarantee vitality. I opened the album by my bedside so that I won't ever forget the face of the past. I need to let it go. Let it go…  I looked around the room, a new room, this is the fourth room this year. One thing that remains constant is the window and the tree outside it. This time it's chir pine. Don't know who planted this in this hot plain area. My eyes fell on my shoes, and the socks were peeking through them. I tried to type some words, but my fingers refused to write what my heart was saying. Fingers were controlling the narrative. Narr...