Even though I’m not much of a sweet tooth I can never pass up the opportunity to devour cookies. At the near-end of my first visit to the US, I realised I’d been there a whole moth without ever trying out Starbucks. So it was with much facepalming that I entered the Starbucks outlet at the Dubai airport. I was in transit from Seattle, and not at all hungry.
But who needs to be hungry to eat cookies?
I don’t think there’s much to love about where I live. But I also think that we have a tendency to overlook the simple beauty around us while we’re busy gawking at sights elsewhere. Thinking about that, I browsed through my archives and found a photo that captures one of the most likeable traits of my hometown. It’s en route to the Yearcaud hills located in the southern part of India. I live about an hour away from the hills and the road leading up to it are a wonderful adventure for any road trip junkie. Not only is the way made up of eight steep hairpin bends, but the bends also guarantee stunning sunrises and sets. It’s not the most beautiful sunset I could’ve seen in my life, but I wouldn’t miss it either.
You don’t need a fancy living to feel good about yourself. A quiet afternoon with a beloved companion is more than enough. This bundle of compassion lives with a friend who was my host when I visited Seattle last year. Ever-bounding with enthusiasm, this was her rare peaceful moment. Looking back, she’s still one of my beloved memories of the trip.
The best thing about modern art is that it has no definition. Anyone can interpret it in any way they like. The artist doesn’t have to be precise or convey everything that runs in their mind. And that’s why no two people absorb a piece of art the same way.
But when the artist has multiple interpretations of their own to convey, then perhaps this is how it might look. This work of art sits at the Museum of Modern Art in San Francisco, California. It reminds me how a single thing can be single and many at the same time. It’s a depiction of how changing, how unfixed art—and to an extent, life—is.
There are only a few things in life that silence you by their sheer magnitude. Without a doubt, nature is one of them. When my friend offered to take me to the Beacon Rock in Stevenson, I was thrilled, excited, and nervous all at the same time. And as it is with these emotions, I chatted away all the way up, eager to reach the peak. My patient friend with his experience in hiking with enthusiastic first timers, offered me advice and great conversation throughout the hike. When at last we reached the top, this sight descended upon me knocking my voice out of my throat. For much longer than a few minutes, we stood atop the rock looking down at the marvellousness that’s the Gorge of Columbia River. Despite the devastating loss it’d undergone mere weeks ago, the river flowed along serene as ever.