By Priya Gohe
We don't merely remember days; we cherish the fleeting moments that
slip through our grasp like grains of golden sand. The whispers of
words linger, tracing the contours of our hearts, while tales greet us
like old friends, their warmth enveloping us in familiarity. In every
night that glimmers with a thousand stars, and in every dawn's
embrace painted in hues of soft pink and crisp orange, we find not the
numbers we tally, but the emotions we savour.
Through the shadows of sadness, where echoes sway gently like
willow branches in the breeze, and in the dawns of pure joy that
illuminate our path, we dance in the margins of our regrets, weaving
love stories so tenderly held, yet bittersweet. These precious memories
nestle against our souls, treasures we guard as time unfurls its
relentless scroll.
That night—oh, that night—was a dream woven from the very fabrics
of light, each thread gleaming with the joys of our youth, pure and
bright. Memories twirled in an elegant waltz, refusing to vanish into
the ether, finding solace in the imperfections we call life. Even in the
deepest slumber, they curled tenderly around my spirit, warming the
hollow spaces of a heart once whole.
Though years cascade like a waterfall, their glow persists, an indelible
imprint on our souls. Cherished echoes of laughter resonate, mingling
with the bittersweet symphony of joy and pain. And when the winds
of remembrance sweep softly through the corridors of my mind, I
smile at the past—a ghostly dance of light and shadow, a vivid
tapestry of emotions that no amount of time can erase.
For we are but travelers on this winding journey, gathering
fragmented pieces like colourful autumn leaves. Each moment a stitch
in the fabric of existence, crafting a story woven by fate's delicate
hands. And so we dance through the echoes, letting joy take the lead,
celebrating each heartbeat in love’s tender embrace.