She’d been wearing those glasses all her life. To parties. To events. To birthdays. Anniversaries. It provided her with the cloak. It brought her the immunity she had always desired. It stopped people from peeking in. But in very, very few moments, she let go, and only in those moments of vulnerability, could people see who she really was- who she had always been, who she would be, for ever and more. Only in those moments, could she truly be, herself. Photographed by Shrey Agrawal.
And so she fisted her fingers, oh-so-tightly. Clinging. Hanging on. Made sure to never let go. To never let the sliver get away. But what was it? Was it her goal? Dreams- Aspirations? All that she ever wished, just held in, not to let people see? Was it a bond? A friendship- a relationship- on the verge of breaking, but not quite? Or was it, indeed, hope? The hope, that one day, things will turn out okay? Photographed by Sukhnidh Kaur.
She screamed and shouted. She cried. In desperation, she turned to ask for help. Begging to be freed. From the shackles- the demons that bound her. Was anyone here? Anyone? But she already knew the answer. No. There was no help. There wasn’t ever going to be. Because no one could hear her voice, really. And how could they? It wasn’t her mouth producing the sounds. It was her soul. And the darkness- the ever blinding darkness, drowning them. Photographed by Sukhnidh Kaur.
Five miles up. Five miles down. Five miles up. Five miles down. Every day, she walks on the same long, winding lane. She does not complain. All she does, is wonder what it would be like, to taste the air of restfulness. What it would be like, to put her tongue out, and taste, what they called Happiness. To taste, Hope. Hope, of a better tomorrow. Hope, of being able to breathe without suffocating. Hope, of light. And with that hope, with the burning fire, she walks an extra mile. Six miles up, Six miles down. Photographed by Shrey Agrawal.
And as he held that sliver against the bright, bright light, it was only then that he could truly see what was beyond. Photographed by Shrey Agrawal.
“I look out the window. The rain has ended. The sky isn’t light blue anymore. It is dark. Grey? Blue? I do not know. There is no trace of the sobs now. Nothing, but my eyes. I smile a wry smile to myself. I am tired. I exhale.” Photographed by Sukhnidh Kaur.
The shoes were muddy. Smeared with dirt. The laces- undone. Somehow it made him feel that there was much more to it, than just some guy who wanted to get a picture of his shoes, clicked. It made him wonder about how the Universe didn’t always have to respond to our questions. How some things were better left unsaid. But for how long was the silence going to let him have his way? For how long, could he run from the truth, before it confronted him, and smacked him on his face? For how long, and for what?! Photographed by Vedant Puri.
Just as the water drop clings,
Unwilling to let go of all it has ever known;
Left with nowhere to go, It falls- The shutter goes off,
The moment- Captured.
The beauty overwhelms
And towards the end, an old man whispers,
‘In letting go, There is beauty- One, like none other.’
And the curtain falls. Photographed by Vedant Puri.
The Last Letter didn’t say much-but somehow it said it all. Six words.‘For you, A Thousand Times Over.’ Photographed by Vedant Puri.
A contribution by Pulkit Jain.
A contribution by Pulkit Jain.
A contribution by Pulkit Jain.
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