Tag Archives: Windows

Fact and Fantasy

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Was it true or was I dreaming? I couldn’t wrench my eyes off the scene. In fact, I couldn’t have enough of it.

I checked the clock to be sure. Yes, it was half past eleven. Almost midnight. But outside my window, the world was bright. Like day, yet not quite. It felt like I had stepped into a painting, another universe– a place I’d never been to before.

The blizzard had run out of steam, or taken a pause so it seemed. The air was still. The naked trees were sporting a shiny new coat of snow. The sky was white, so was the earth. There was no sound, nothing moved, yet everything throbbed with life. I was in awe.

It was too fantastic to be true. Yet true it was. I had the proof outside my window.

The Window : The Boy on the Street

the window

The view from inside the first courtyard of The Palazzo Vecchio- the town hall of Florence, Italy.

The Boy on The Street

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The entire world passes by

While she remains static

Finding relief from her reminiscences

Her morose thoughts

`

A young man passes by

An inquisitive light in his eyes

She knows not his name

It’s but a trifling detail

`

She welcomes the anonymous exchanges

A smile

Sometimes a wave

And assembles a hazy dream

Of carefree tomorrows

And hopeful todays

Windows

Windows 1

Mumbai’s historic Chatrapati Shivaji Terminus (formerly Victoria Terminus)

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Humayun’s Maqbara (tomb of the Mughal emperor Humayun) in Delhi, India built 1569-70

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Alongside Chicago river

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Windows

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Clean windows, plain, glass, open, close, bright,

Light, shaded, paned, shuttered, blinded, boarded,

Rusty, dirty, smoky windows.

Broken, shattered, run down windows

Windows that protect and hide, windows to the world outside

And sometimes to the world within

Unraveling layer by layer, revealing,

A tool for introspection and scrutiny,

A glance into a soul, full of secrets and smokescreens,

Evasion, denial, half-truths

Windows, they tell it all.  

The Girl at the Window

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Safdarjung Tomb, Delhi, India

The Girl at the Window

—o—

I see her everyday

At the window of her house

Her face lurking in the shadows

Finding cover in the veil of secrecy

Obscurity in a shroud of seclusion

But her beauty is not hidden from me

`

She’s a princess

From a faraway exotic land

I know not her name

Yet she has become a part of my life

My daily scenery

And I miss her now that she is gone

Window Shopping Roman Style!

Digressing a little from the main topic, I’d like to share some pictures I took on a recent trip to Rome.

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The colorful petunias relieve the stark grey backdrop of the Piazza Novona in Rome.

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Now it’s the turn of the red orange geraniums bordering the Spanish Steps. Must say that these folks know their color palette.