RedPaper.in – Thoughts
By: Preeti Vyas | RedPaper.in
It was again that time of the year. He was sitting below the pale tall tree with his small notebook. His shoes seem torn, his hair messy and the eyes dark and dull as if it is searching for something. He is never a big fan of any of the seasons but this one particularly gives him some relief. He can grasp a sense of similarity with the surroundings –which is now growing brighter in order to go dull. He loves as the tree changes the colors in a spectrum which is so large to decipherable by his own eyes. He loves as the leaves slowly attain the best tinge of shade and rapidly gets withered. He likes the way how each of these falls from the top and cover the barren land with all such vibrant colors and then turn dull. He likes it all working in phases, one by one.
Why does he like it? He used to ask himself looking at the withered pages of his notebook. He gets lost again often. It was his personal diary in which he used to write songs. His news clips, poster clips and cassette covers were there in the pages of the fame which he lived. But now it’s the time for the fall again he thinks. Scribbling his pencil on the paper he wonders.