Aarohi Sharma

December 13, 2021 Monday As I strolled around my apartments from a tiring day, I looked up at the sky as a necessary ritual to admire the beauty of the moon. This time it was different. It didn't seem clear to my pupil. I stared and stared (as if I found the man of my life); it was all blurry, so ill-defined that it made me doubt my own eyes. I literally rubbed my eyes and admired again, okay so it was blur again. However, it was blur not because of my eyes but due to the clouds all around the sky. To all intents and purposes, the ratio of force and pressure around and over the moon was cloudy. It took me long pause to realize and create the synopsis of the scenario and actually walk forward. Well, I headed up straight on my path baffled. I was a bit disturbed and a lot more perplexed. Then, my mind took its pace. I wanted to shut it all at first place, as I was sick of overthinking. However, this time I let my mind overpower my senses and I kept going. So, I acknowledged this scal...

  In the island of roses There remains the thorn beneath, Different seasons of their poses Lies the pain underneath.   Glad with the alluring mountains Afraid of the devastating  pits, Fascinated with the fountains But, am I okay with all I see?   Perhaps the things will be as beautiful as roses Otherwise, it would always be counted as thorns I want it to change its poses, But with less of warns And more of roses. -Aarohi