What is your favorite place to go in your city?
The lake seems calm when the world forgets to rush.
The lake seems dancing when the winds arrive in a hush.
It has a golden hue when the warm sun starts to leave.
It turns deep when dreams settle softly beneath the eve.
What’s the first impression you want to give people?
The one who is calm, yet quietly strong,
the one who cares but knows when to hold on.
A presence soft, but steady as stone,
a strength that lives in a humble undertone.
If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?
If I could live anywhere, I’d choose the air,
a place of peace, not tied to “where.”
Home is a feeling, not a pin on a map,
and I carry that calm in my heart, like a wrap.
What’s the coolest thing you’ve ever found (and kept)?
Once I found a note the wind had tossed,
half its words blurred, half still embossed.
I kept it close, though the name was gone,
some mysteries feel like they belong.
Somewhere between yesterday’s lessons
and tomorrow’s dreams,
I celebrate today.
Time doesn’t chase me anymore,
it sits beside me,
listening.
This isn’t just a birthday,
I whisper gratitude
to the life that keeps me becoming.
Simi
What is good about having a pet?
They turn dull days into wagging tales,
chasing joy through all our trails.
With paws and purrs, they fix our mood
no therapist could be this good!
Name the most expensive personal item you’ve ever purchased (not your home or car).
Not jewels or gowns that caught the light,
but a pen that felt perfectly right.
It didn’t just write, it set me free,
turning thoughts to eternity.
What was your favorite subject in school?
Poetry was my favorite class,
where silence spoke and dreams would pass.
It taught me more than rules could say,
to feel, to question, to find my way.
How do you manage screen time for yourself?
I don’t chase screens, I let them wait
life outside the glow feels far more great.
I log out to tune in, sky, breath, ground
because the real world has the richest sound.
The sunset is a ledger,
inking light into the lake,
a contract between endings
and the colours they remake.
The water is a question
wearing stillness as its skin,
a lock that never opens
yet keeps letting you walk in.
The sky is just a whisper
that the day has one more breath,
a fire that doesn’t burn,
yet warms the edge of depth.
The hills are quiet witnesses,
jury to the dusk’s soft trial,
shadowed, but not absent,
silent, but not in denial.
The tree is not a tree at all,
but a map of who you were,
roots below the surface,
stories tangled in its blur.
And you?
You’re the ripple,
small, unseen, but real,
proof that even stillness
has a pulse it tries to feel.
Reflection isn’t memory.
It’s a lantern made of glass,
it doesn’t show the journey back,
it lights the way you’ll pass.
Simi
Picture credits: BDS
Simi says... 