The cars stood still, the breeze held tight, As amber spilled from the edge of light. No rush, no race, just sky and flame, A quiet close, no one to name. The trees stood still, the silence grew, And twilight blushed in dusky hue.
The wind swept bold through restless trees, It sang in swirls, it danced with ease. We chase the hours, miss the glow, Yet sunsets teach what time won’t show. That joy is found when all is still, When hearts align with evening’s will. The day withdrew, but left its grace, A golden hush, the sky’s embrace.
Simi
Framed through the lens of Arca. Thank you for holding stillness in motion.
Morning light on a quiet face, A handwritten letter, sealed with grace. Laughter that spills without a cue, A song that feels like it remembers you.
Pages that smell like old-time rain, Music that sings, even on the quietest lane. The weight of a blanket on a cold day, A stranger’s smile lighting the way.
Fingers laced after a long, lost fight,
Peacock’s dance, as the clouds sieve the light. A tree you always pass but never name, Returning somewhere and it feels the same.
Cookies still warm from the oven’s heat, Words that rhyme when your heart skips a beat. A child’s voice calling out to play, The scent of chai at the close of day.
Rain when you’ve nowhere to be, A deep breath taken consciously. The click of a pen starting something new, Someone whispering, “I believe in you.”
Wind that plays softly with your hair, Finding poetry just floating in air. Realising you’ve healed from something vast, A photograph that brings back the past.
Fireflies blinking in a hush-lit night, The ease of not needing to be right. Dancing barefoot across your room, A hug that knows exactly when to resume.
A quiet smile from an elder’s lips, A blessing offered with trembling fingertips. The joy lies in almost everything, It waits for us to start noticing.
I don’t chase habits, don’t count or bind, Joy lives outside the patterned mind. No need to measure, strive, or show, It rises quiet, and starts to flow.
I marvel at an ant’s small stride, Then dream beneath the starry tide. A leaf that twirls, a mountain wide, All stir the seeker deep inside. I chase no end, no final goal, Just threads of wonder feed my soul.
I’d slow the race, hush the constant chase, Replace screens with more face-to-face. Let hearts find pause in the noise we’ve made, And make kindness a currency that’s always paid.
A buttered toast when the soul feels bruised, Golden and crisp, in silence infused. Not just for hunger, but comfort I choose, A bite of belonging when I quietly lose.
What’s your favorite game (card, board, video, etc.)? Why?
Carrom, for me, is more than a game, It’s life in miniature: corners, rebounds, aim. Each strike a choice, each miss a lesson, A quiet duel of chance and intention.
I do not count in loss or lack, Each choice I made, I won’t take back. Not sacrifice, but love I live For what I chose, I chose to give.
As daughter, mother, friend and healer, No borrowed script, no tale to tailor. No burden borne, no debt to claim Just steps aligned with joy and flame.