songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com
The Little Grey Squiggles.: April 2012
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The Little Grey Squiggles. Saturday, April 21, 2012. The desert sands can do strange things to a person. The grains burrow deep into your skin to lend your face a timeless quality. The old man squatting opposite us was around ninety, but he looked older than anyone I had ever seen. Underneath a pair of bushy eyebrows, his eyes still retained sparks of a long forgotten fire. 8220;We never had enough water in those days. There was only one well, many kilometres away. People would walk there and sta...8220;...
songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com
The Little Grey Squiggles.: Home, sweet soul
http://songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com/2012/04/home-sweet-soul.html
The Little Grey Squiggles. Monday, April 16, 2012. Home, sweet soul. The city is lies, deceit and pretend humane. It is a complex machine of sorts, masquerading with a human face, a familiar place. It lulls its unknowing people into a complacent nap. Everything is alright because I am a happy place with a smiling face. Believe in me and the buildings that you see around you. You are mistaken. Behind those shut windows are not soulless souls who pretend to live. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
dameofblahsong.blogspot.com
rainsongstress: surrender
http://dameofblahsong.blogspot.com/2011/02/surrender.html
Singing in the rain. Monday, February 28, 2011. Monday, February 28, 2011. Aint got no place to lay your head. Somebody came and took your bed. Dont worry, be happy. The land lord say your rent is late. He may have to litigate. Dont worry, be happy. Lood at me I am happy. Dont worry, be happy. Here I give you my phone number. When you worry call me. I make you happy. Dont worry, be happy. Aint got no cash, aint got no style. Aint got not girl to make you smile. But dont worry be happy.
chichingfank.blogspot.com
A Conglomeration Of Impurities: December 2013
http://chichingfank.blogspot.com/2013_12_01_archive.html
A Conglomeration Of Impurities. Tuesday, December 31, 2013. And indeed there will be time. For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,. Rubbing its back upon the window panes;. There will be time, there will be time. To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;. Friday, December 13, 2013. That will jump on the. I am so very sorry for. She will see this. Shake it once, then. It's not my death that. Worries me, it's my wife. That all the nights. I ever feared to. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).
soliloquydiaries.blogspot.com
Glass.
http://soliloquydiaries.blogspot.com/2013/02/the-evening-reminds-me-of-you.html
Feb 15, 2013. The evening reminds me of you,. The evening with its smell of wet earth, rain and madness. And a restless despair grips my heart. I miss your touch,. Your beautiful bustling body, scarred with people, pressed close against mine. I miss your smell, your taste, your poetry. And I crave you, you, you,. My city, my muse, my whore. Kaal Boyshaakhi. :P. Made it sound as Bengla as I could.). February 15, 2013 at 9:39 AM. February 23, 2013 at 1:27 PM. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).
soliloquydiaries.blogspot.com
Glass.
http://soliloquydiaries.blogspot.com/2014/01/its-season-of-letters.html
Jan 3, 2014. It's the season of letters. Letters, lovingly handwritten, heavy with the weight of unsaid words. Letters that are oceans, where whole new worlds live in silence beneath the surface of the page. Riddhi G. Dastidar. Dhutteri, aaro lekh na. May 3, 2014 at 8:21 AM. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Little snippets of Random Philosophy. Poetry in making(but not quite.). The year that has been. Its the season of letters. Letters, lovingly hand. The City in July. Musings Of A Movie Maniac.
soliloquydiaries.blogspot.com
Glass.
http://soliloquydiaries.blogspot.com/2013/11/whenever-you-write-to-me-i-sigh-little.html
Nov 24, 2013. Whenever you write to me, I smile a little, wrapping myself up in the easy familiarity of our conversations: warm, old and nostalgic. Like old wine in a bottle, waiting to be popped. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Little snippets of Random Philosophy. Poetry in making(but not quite.). The year that has been. Whenever you write to me, I smile a little, wrappi. The City in July. Musings Of A Movie Maniac. Dancing on the Window Sill. Window to a world.
soliloquydiaries.blogspot.com
Glass.: November 2013
http://soliloquydiaries.blogspot.com/2013_11_01_archive.html
Nov 24, 2013. Whenever you write to me, I smile a little, wrapping myself up in the easy familiarity of our conversations: warm, old and nostalgic. Like old wine in a bottle, waiting to be popped. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Little snippets of Random Philosophy. Poetry in making(but not quite.). The year that has been. Whenever you write to me, I smile a little, wrappi. The City in July. Musings Of A Movie Maniac. Dancing on the Window Sill. Window to a world.
soliloquydiaries.blogspot.com
Glass.: April 2013
http://soliloquydiaries.blogspot.com/2013_04_01_archive.html
Apr 21, 2013. On nights like these, when the air is heavy with the smell of rain, I long for you. There’s a storm in my heart, and I wait. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). Little snippets of Random Philosophy. Poetry in making(but not quite.). The year that has been. On nightslike these, when the air is heavy with th. The City in July. Musings Of A Movie Maniac. Dancing on the Window Sill. Window to a world. Awesome Inc. template. Template images by billnoll.
songs-from-the-road.blogspot.com
The Little Grey Squiggles.: March 2012
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The Little Grey Squiggles. Tuesday, March 27, 2012. Six little bricks made up the tiny hut. Some were crumbly and some were not. I lived inside and hoped that the strong ones would stand. One day, they all fell down on me. And covered me with a layer of fine dust. I stood up and realised. It wasn’t so bad after all. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom). 8220;What a horror it would have been if the world was real, because if the world was real, it would be immortal.”. View my complete profile. With a dash of salt.
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