Hark! The rhythm

Hark! The rhythm. The pellet drum rattles. The dance begins. The creation, the annihilation, the fleeing in-betweens, and beyond these appar...

Friday, October 10, 2014

The evenings are bedight

Days blend into evenings sooner than expected.
Clocks mislead.
So by 6P.M., the cloak of dusk has already fallen over the urban camaraderie.
The bustling traffic looks like red and golden streaks against the dark backgrounds.
Ardent, ablaze, aflare and aroused.
The twilight is set alight by very many festive Chinese illuminations bedecked like brides on the four walls of skyscrapers, shopping malls, and houses.
After all, it is "the festive season" of India jam-packed with back to back celebrations, with barely breather days inbetween.
Despite the glowing LEDs, my evenings are always draped in black cafards. Bedight with melancholia.

Linking with:  Velvet Verbosity: 100 words: Cloak

2 comments:

Since every thought is a seed, I am looking forward to a delicious harvest.