To do or not to do

Good things happen to those who try

The time for simply waiting has long gone by

Little by little

Every inch of the way

Push your limits

And remember

Even Rome wasn’t built in a day

Life goes on

Leaving us mute spectators

So I say, even though we’ve no sound to chime

Nothing can stop us from learning to mime

Thinking out of the box is the key here

When one door closes

Don’t show any fear

For when you believe in yourself, my dear

And put in an effort

You’d have no regrets

Despite facing failure

For you fail not when you don’t win

You lose when you’ve not even tried to play the game

So, if it’s all the same

I’d rather work

Than shirk

And be my own sweet reward.

I hope you all like this near-year-end motivator. It’s the time for resolutions. I’m getting off my feet and getting things done. I’m on the path that I’ve forged with blood, sweat and tears. Yet, I wouldn’t have it any other way! Im getting closer to my goals and getting ready to set my aims even higher.

How’s your journey in life been so far? Are you making some genuine resolutions for the new year? I’d love to hear about them!

Love,

Varnika

Last but not the least

December, despite a cold heart, never fails to warm my soul. It’s always brought with it promises of kindling romance and new beginnings in life. When the piercing December winds smack against my face, I feel even more alive. It teaches me to brace against the harshness of times. It also always amazes me how the last month of the year, rather than inciting gloom and dread, fills me up with cheer. Way before the Christmas lights go up, my eyes start to glimmer. The world around me, snow covered, starts to glow and shimmer.

December, you have always been kind. This year too, please be mine?

Classical

He reminded me of a Wodehouse novel

Satirical, whimsical, fantastical and witty

He strung me along like a Beethovan melody

Light headed, dizzy, tipsy yet taking flight

He serenaded me like Sinatra

Till we were no strangers in the night

He goaded my like Antony’s speech

Killing me with kindness

But most of all

He loved me

Like the way it was always meant to be

The Perfect Date?

Into a deeper conversation

Take my hand

And lead me on

Lay bare

The deepest recesses of the mind

For leisure reading

Touch my soul

With words passionate

And a heart

Which loves to delve more

Of First Love and Fountain Pens

First love is very much like learning to write. The move from erasable pencils to the permanency of ink. Delible, of course, by fallen tears. The smooth yet blotchy scratching of the nib, like the throes of a new relationship. The rush of flowing ink, forming words straight from the heart.

You go through the pages of life without giving it a conscious thought, yet safely tucked at the back of your drawer, battered from age and wear, lies your beloved fountain pen. The first pen which made you feel like a grownup. Forgotten and replaced, thrown away for spilling and splotching too much. Yet, you can’t help but smile and shed a tear every time you behold it.

Perfect Strangers and the things they do

The world as you know it

Will change one day

At the hands

Of a perfect stranger

Yet you’d feel

More comfortable

Than you have ever before

Life as you know it

Would stand upside down

Yet it’d be more recognisable

Than the headstand it feels like now

Home

As you know it to be

Will change its very definition as a noun

From a place to a person

And yet

You’d always long to go home

One Mile Down

I walked a mile

In your shoes

And now my feet

Are covered with sores

I don’t know yet what to make of your sole

But I’m so much closer to touching your soul

Telltale

A cat caught it’s tail

While a dog straightened its own

Somewhere in the midst of it all

Someone got a baby’s nose

Creating a mayhem out of symphony

Or one could call it a bewildering ephiphany

So if you feel you’re bound to fail

My friend remember this, if you may

That it may go either way

While you’ll still be able to say

That

Thereby hangs a tale

Cappuccino

Her smile was warm and welcoming

Yet her frosty eyes held subtle hints of warning

Her words, in turn, were uncharacteristically shy and hesitant

She was a paradox and a juxtaposition

Yet, somehow, a soul soothing combination

As she clutched in her hands

A hot brew of

Equal parts coffee, milk and froth.

Did you know a perfect cup of cappuccino contains milk, coffee and foam in a ratio of 1:1:1?

Also, since this seems to be turning into a series on hot cuppas, what are your thoughts on this and Espresso ? Which kind of coffee should I do next?

Espresso

I’ve survived what seemed like the end of times on countless cups of coffee

What are the chances then of you messing with me and emerging unscathed

You’d be grounded and roasted

Pressed and filtered out

While a telltale storm brews in my eyes