This year’s Kalaghoda Festival was a much needed break from routine monotony.
A lovely day of roaming around with my camera. From this to this post here. The last Year has seen a lot of changes.
But the more things change. the more they stay the same. And this festival-of art, colour and happiness reminds me that C.S. Lewis was right-“There are far better things in Life than any we leave behind.”
Strangers make me Smile|Kalaghoda 2014.
Look who we have here.
Kala Ghoda 2014
Colours of Tradition
We are parts of things that make us.
The Sapphire Ring.
The Pink Necklace.
The Eclectic Colours.
We are what we take pride in.
The Tempered Grace.
We are what we never knew we desired.
We are what we hope someone will someday comprehend.
Dare to leap,my darling.
Dare to jump.
Dare to scream, my dear.
Dare to breathe.
Cut old threads.
Cross old bridges with new friends.
Get more than you ever hoped for.
Get more than you need.
Get close, my darling.
Do not let the pain make you hate.
Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness.
Swimming in circles.
Currents all around.
Pulling you under.
Throwing you ashore.
The whims and fancies of the sisters of Fate.
Spinning the loom,entangling the threads.
But wait a moment, darling.
You are lovely, and whole.
Cracked and Complete.
Both, yours and your lover’s.
But the soul’s first.
“And every day, the world will drag you by the hand, yelling, “This is important! And this is important! And this is important! You need to worry about this! And this! And this!” And each day, it’s up to you to yank your hand back, put it on your heart and say, “No. This is what’s important.”
Darling, you’re in my veins.
I thought you knew.
You’re my midnight conversation,
With the stars and the cold North wind.
I thought I told you.
You,simply put, are important.
But now you’re why my smile falters.
I stopped thinking when I kissed you.
I keep thinking you already know.
I keep thinking I’ve sent you letters that were only ever written in my mind.
Inspired my Iain Thomas.
Last two lines are his work.
There are galaxies inside of me.
Maps on my skin and bones.
Secrets in the hollows of ribs.
Starlight in my words and tones.
Chaos in the crook of my neck.
Moondust splatters from broken dreams and hopes.
Like sunset on a sinking ship’s deck.
Forgotten, not alone.
Will you hold me,my dear?
Just until dawn.
When reason collides with soul,
Someday the demons will silence,
When your name drops in a content sigh from my bruised lips.
Until then, unknown love,
Inspired by the words of Christopher Poindexter.
And she tucked herself
away in a corner,
quiet and foreign
to the crowd around her
and all that kept racing
through my head
is that the best kind
of beauty is the
kind that is mostly
― Christopher Poindexter
Dancing to our own tune by the fairy lights,
Close enough to feel your chest move when you breathe.
This is my reprieve from the world.
Another dance, back and forth this time,
Between eyes and lips,
Hands and touch.
This is rejecting the rest of the world.
A dance most primal,
Since ages long forgotten,
Between gasps and sighs and Euphoria.
This makes you irrevocably mine, part of my world.
A soft sigh.
Blanketed by the night,
There’s nothing else here.
I wish for nothing more.
Covered by memories, a lazy smile plays on my lips,
A soft sigh.
I still miss you.
Or rather I miss the idea of you.
The what if of us.
I have scars from the words you told me.
Remains of what I tried to carve out.
A constant reminder of the us that never was.
I have bruises from where you held me.
Marks of being wanted.
Created in the shadows by us.
I have this uneasiness hanging over me.
This fear of your words, too pretty to be true.
I will forget your breath on my neck.
And the touch of your fingers on my ribs.
But darling, tell me this,
how am I to forget the warmth of words breathed out in the dark?
If we are Ash, am I too no more?