interlude

~ all my tea ~  a store, pursuit of stories, art, music and love, brewed with a cup of tea... https://www.pinterest.com/yogita24/all-my-tea/ meddled with creepers, cobbled streets, warm doorways and charmingly aged shops adorned walkways of riddles and rhymes brewing cultures ...continuing the theme ... Tins. uniquely, Oriental wall of colours &... of pots and cups... setting for a ceremony like a ritual... house of flavours noted! ~ store of flavours & stories ~

blank canvas and trails of ink always leave fascinating stories.  such  stories, create trails of happiness, surprise, lingering nostalgia and lasting impressions.  imaginations and concoct possibilities by the mark of ink are irreplaceable. laughter that resonates in such stories, contemplation of a quote, pensive tinkering of  destiny,  leaves a mark on everything it touches.  indian henna as ink , hand as canvas & five favorite quotes engraved on my soul are these beautiful lines, inked on my hand, they breathe; respond to every call that excites your soul.... the universe is made of stories.... the world is full of magical things, waiting for our senses to grow sharper.... let the beauty of what you love, be what you do... what you seek, is seeking you.... romance with ink always  yields  beautiful fruits....

On a sun-kissed March afternoon, as the city worked its way towards monotony, blissfully ignorant of the life passing by, I along with the other souls adopted by this city, was happily keying in my life into random wastefulness of this orchestrated motion. It was just another Thursday morning...twenty minutes spent checking on notes that have arrived from the parallel world over the time when this city sleeps...five minutes in getting the cup of tea to my desk, some ten seconds for plugging my ear-phones and most importantly ten patient minutes spent on picking the right tune for the day...Today, Beethoven is out to set the mood, playing Moonlight Sonata and I am scribbling as the monotony was broken by a visual from the past... ... a vague visual of folksy girl sitting under a tree, reading though the struggles of Bernini, hardships of Michelangelo, creation of David and his intense gaze on her as if he is standing right there mystified by her as she reads through him...