#scurf104 old*** dispatches from Kovai
old scribbles from November, as I smoothed over and matured into a December in 2016, alone (well...) in Coimbatore
Napier days.. I'll share the beauty, give me some comfort... please. I visited a children's library today. And it had some very pretty nooks. And choicest collection of books. Outside the windows it looked like decay.. Inside the readers kept reading... The rain couldn't be photographed.. So I looked for beauty on the walls and the paintings that adorned the library...The rains did not stop. Not for once. Sadness was re-emerging... Beauty lost its sheen... soon everything was shrouded in a pregnant lament pause. And before I knew, I was drenched... A hollow, seeped, soaked sadness clasped me from within... And I was all but a visitor paying some attention, lending a couple of listens to the void within.
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