'THE ART OF NOTICING'
Hey you! yes, you wandering through doomscrolling. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? I think the last time we met, the leaves were golden and tumbling—Autumn whispered her goodbye while you were caught in the whirlwind of days. And now here we are, standing in the summer, the sky painted in heatwaves and sunsets. Time slips quietly, doesn’t it? Funny, how summer holds so many memories like pressed flowers in an old journal. Sticky mango sweet afternoons, sunburnt noses, laughter echoing from terraces, the smell of chilled lemonade. And yet, we keep moving, eyes fixed on a distant future, walking right past the blooming garden of now—blindfolded by ‘what next.’ Have you ever thought about it? Do we lose the gem of the present only to mourn it in nostalgia later? Do we stroll through orchards being blindfolded by our thoughts? Sometimes, a good memory is nothing but a collection of tiny sparks ,brief, but bright. A surprise pat on your back from an old friend, a night drive under a sta...