Tell us about the last thing you got excited about.
From butterflies kissing flowers at dawn,
to trees that sway as the rains fall on;
a child’s sweet smile, an elder’s prayer,
the moon and a cookie, life’s joy everywhere.
Tell us about the last thing you got excited about.
From butterflies kissing flowers at dawn,
to trees that sway as the rains fall on;
a child’s sweet smile, an elder’s prayer,
the moon and a cookie, life’s joy everywhere.
What do you enjoy most about writing?
What I enjoy is the soul’s gentle flight,
turning my silence into verses of light.
Each word a rhythm, each pause a song,
in writing I find where I truly belong.
What positive emotion do you feel most often?
Gratitude dances, gentle and free,
a golden thread through all I see.
It sings in silence, bright and clear,
a timeless hymn I hold so near.
What is the most important thing to carry with you all the time?
Carry a spark no wind can dim,
A song of hope, a steadfast hymn.
Through every road, both rough and true,
Let it remind the world of you.

The sun bows low in skies of gold,
Where silence speaks, and light unfolds.
An evening paused in a gentle frame,
Framed in stillness as night lays its claim.
Yet in each ending, something starts
A quiet glow that stirs our hearts.
Simi
Through the lens of Arca
Describe one habit that brings you joy.
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.
Write about a random act of kindness you’ve done for someone.
She gripped the rail with trembling grace,
Each step a mountain, slow to trace.
I held her hand, we climbed as one,
No medals won, but hearts were spun.
How would you describe yourself to someone who can’t see you?
Like morning tea with a spicy twist,
A breeze that teases, hard to resist!
Half poetry, half curious spark,
You’ll guess I’m smiling in the dark.

What traditions have you not kept that your parents had?
I light the lamp, I wear the thread,
But skip the scripts the elders said.
Not every ritual makes me whole,
I follow few, but with my soul.
What’s the story behind your nickname?
Dad named me Simi, not just on a whim,
Short for Simran, a soulful hymn.
Meditative, joyful… perhaps a bit quirky,
Guess they sensed I’d dance through life murky!