Confessions of a Self Destructive Soul

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Roses Are Blue

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First off, the title is just for kicks.

My favorite part about this picture, I didn’t have to do anything. Someone had taken out the roses from an old bouquet. And when I walked past, they were just there, waiting to be clicked. It’s sometimes wonderful¬†to stumble upon a piece of nature in the midst of our electronic lives, I feel.

Second favorite part, the picture is full of so many possibilities. I can’t put a finger on one¬†particular emotion. Happiness, melancholy, nostalgia, pain, retrospection; it seems to take form of however you’re feeling at the moment.

Last, I’d just like to put it out there. Roses are anything but romantic. Flowers in general for that matter. It’s like saying, hey I saw something pretty and alive and I brought it to you so you could watch it die in your hands.

Mr. Grasshopper

I’d always believed grasshoppers to be lonely souls. The way they keep sitting at one spot for hours. Then I clicked this picture. Those crazy eyes are full of anything but loneliness. Those are the eyes of a genius, or a criminal mastermind. And I’m sure he has one hell of a story to tell about his missing antenna.

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Fallen Stories

I’m not the kind of person who’d stop to click a picture. I’d rather just take it all in through my eyes, and may be, if it’s extraordinary, create a poem in my head. Rarely do I pull out a camera and click. This was one such time. The picture didn’t come out great, but every time I look at it, I feel like each flower has a story of its own.

Fallen Stories
Location: Symbiosis Lavale Campus, Pune