And my feet splash into the tiny puddles. It feels as though the tiny drops welcome me home.

They caress my feet and cover them with an icy touch that sends shivers all over me. The droplets of rain cover me in their embrace, cold and windy. It forces people all around to take shelter. They stand under roofs and rub their arms- craving a warmth that my heart lacks. I am not one of them. I am not seeking shelter. It is as if the rain is my abode, no matter how cruel it might be. I walk through the pour as my feet dance in the glory that it witnesses all around. My body twirls to the rhythm of the rain and the clouds look over me. They stand witness to the thoughts I brew, to the steps I take, and to the tears I cry.

As I feel my body go numb to the icy storm around me, a thought takes over. It consumes my entire being. I ponder and realise that in some other multiverse, I would be standing under the rain with an umbrella. I wouldn’t be the soul who craves the touch of the rain. I wouldn’t be the girl who finds solace in these drippy clothes and pouring hair. And I feel sadness for that version of me. Thorough sadness because I am sure that nothing matches the feel of rain against your skin. I am sure that nothing makes you feel more alive than a rain storming you.

The air around me turns warm and the clouds calm down. The stormy beats turn into soft melodies. No more is the world dancing for me. No more is the water caressing me… all that is left is a reminder. A reminder of the best of times.
And that reminder is petrichor. The Petrichor is swirling around me and making me write my heart out.

Thank you for reading! See you in the next blog!


If my life was a book📚

If my life was a book, it wouldn’t be the glossy white paperback sitting in the ‘Best-seller’ section. It wouldn’t be the one that is picked by all, loved by all. If my life could be put down on pages, it would not have bookish tropes and nail-biting instances. It wouldn’t be a short 200 page novel.. it would not be a book that was annotated and recommended. 

If my life was a book, it would be jumbled up and crazy. It would be some sole book, rotting on some dusty shelf, in some faraway library. It would be a purple hardcover that scares you off instead of craving a caressing touch. It would be a mess that would beckon your mind but never capture it enough to keep you hooked on the very word that flows next. It would have short chapters full of mumblings and recollection. It would have glorified descriptions and obsessions. 

I wonder if you would give it a read. I wonder if you would turn those pages and absorb the bits of my soul despite the awkwardness and the nerdy-ness. I wonder if you would pick me and give my story a chance.

I love this prompt so much! thanks to Instagram for gifting me this💜

Thanks for reading! See you in the next blog!


Dance! 💃🏻

Since it was International Dance Day yesterday, I tried to put down what dancing does to my soul. Well, this is going to be tough but here we gooo!

Just to provide some context, I am always told I look happiest when I am dancing and I can’t help but agree. It is almost as if music reverberates in my veins and brings me to a euphoric state. I feel the beats and the rhythm that it creates in my soul is just simply obvious.

It is almost as if the moment music swirls around in the air, I become intoxicated. Nothing matters more than those notes that carry me to a place filled with solace and life and oblivion. My body moves along… without my own consciousness directing it.

I move, almost as a reflex, and some say I dance but truly, it feels like flying. My feet twirl of their own accord, my hands shape their own destiny and my eyes close to take in the gravitas of the moment. It is in those moments that I smile without realising it. I could say that I forget all my worries but in the real sense, I forget EVERYTHING. There only remains me and my dancing soul, leaving no place for hopes, worries, or people (for that matter).

When I dance, the sensations in my body almost go numb… as if I am no more tangible. The notes of music engrave themselves in my mind and make unknown patterns. I stand amidst a crowd but feel free. Absolutely, completely free and alone and at peace.

This was a short one, I know! I will see y’all with a longer blog next time.

Thank you for reading! See you soon!