Between these walls of paper and ink,
lie worlds far deeper than we think.
Each spine a doorway, each page a key,
unlocking the vast infinity.
Time folds gently where stories reside,
wisdom and wonder stand side by side.
Amid the clutter, a truth is clear,
eternity lingers, quietly here.
Simi
As captured by Jayati
Share a story about the furthest you’ve ever traveled from home.
Beneath distant skies where strangers dwell,
I carried my roots, yet wore them well.
The furthest path was a circle’s art,
For every mile led back to heart.
Though rust has kissed its iron frame,
its color burns, a quiet flame.
Forgotten use, yet beauty clings,
a relic speaks of fleeting things.
Time may erode, yet hues refuse,
to dim the stories they still choose.
An old red form the world may lose,
but in its presence, time renews.
Not all that ages fades away,
some grow brighter in their stay.
What seems forgotten still can glow,
teaching more than we may know.
Simi
Jayati’s clicks
Why do you blog?
I blog to weave the unseen threads,
to give voice to thoughts the heart embeds.
Each word a mirror, each line a flame,
seeking truth beyond a name.
Why must I be bound by a single glance,
confined to the surface, a fleeting chance?
Am I not more than the frame you face,
more than a moment, a passing trace?
My beauty is not just a polished view,
it breathes in turns, in silences too.
Each facet whispers a story anew,
yet discerning eyes belong to few.
Beyond the glance, endless worlds reside,
unseen horizons at every side.
My nature unfolds in shifting light,
revealed through patience, not in sight.
Judge me not by the first embrace,
for depth is hidden in subtle space.
To truly know, one must dare,
to look again, and find me there.
Simi
Unveiled through Jayati’s lens
What daily habit do you do that improves your quality of life?
Yoga is no habit, it’s a breath made whole,
A quiet returning, a tuning of soul.
Not practice alone, but a way to just be,
A bridge from the self to infinity.
How would you design the city of the future?
A city where gratitude flows like streams,
nourishing lives, fulfilling dreams.
Each breath a gift, each life a prayer,
a future of harmony woven with care.
A silhouette drifts in the dimming glow,
Revealing a presence all beings know.
What lingers is not the race we run,
But the oneness of earth, sky, and sun.
In stillness, the infinite comes clear,
We are but ripples that vanish, yet reappear.
Simi
Through Sudhanshu’s lens
How do you plan your goals?
I plant my aims like seeds in spring,
Give them the sun that small hopes bring.
Step by step, I let them grow,
Patience the path, and time the flow.
What is a word you feel that too many people use?
If “I” were taxed, some folks I know,
Would owe the world a heap they owe.
Perhaps less “I” and more “we,” “you,” or “they,”
Might make our talks a brighter play.
Simi says... 