Many versus in poetry and references in literature had led me to believe that winter is probably the most desolate and monochromatic season. Between Virginia Woolf’s ‘Melancholy were the sounds on a winter’s night’ and PB Shelley’s ‘If winter comes, can spring be far behind?’ I was convinced that winter was made of sorrow and…
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‘A thing of beauty is a joy for ever: Its loveliness increases; it will never Pass into nothingness;’ John Keats immortalised the definition of beauty in his Endymion. Now whenever I am mesmerised by the beauty of any landscape or memory, I recite these lines to myself. Lake Geneva region or the Montreux Riviera in…
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On a bright summer morning, I ambitiously set out to hike Rochers-de-Naye, a part of the Swiss Alps, which overlooks Montreux and Lake Geneva. There are plenty of scenic hiking trails here and my plan was to walk from Jaman to summit. Once I alighted from my cogwheel ride at Jaman, I stopped to ask…
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I have been missing my writing. You know those moments when you do nothing and words just flow to legibly paint the canvas and define the scene you’re staring at? Or may be those written feelings, which you never thought existed till you sat down with your fountain pen and a blank piece of paper?…
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