A Bright Canvas, Musings

c u r t a i n s



the sunshine filtered through my pale, white curtains. they danced in the slight wind that blew. i, dressed in my comfiest pajamas, walked over to my balcony with a cup of latte macchiato. The breeze caressed my hair, while the sun left gentle, warm kisses on my face. i sipped my coffee in peace, feeling as if there were nothing but the nature and me on this planet. for just a few moments, there was nothing to occupy my mind.

–  i n  a  v e r y  l o n g  t i m e





A Bright Canvas, Musings

o n c e / a g a i n

one step forwards

two steps back

there’s too many thoughts

dancing in my head

you ask me something

my mood lifts

there’s passion running

in my veins

and an outpour of words

on my lips

i talk, i open up, i say

it all out loud

what’s dancing in my head

i look up

at your face

you’re the least interested

my shoulders slump

my voice goes softer

my mood falls

like my heart

right on the floor

it happens once again

but i don’t seem to learn

and once again

i vow

not to talk too much

your mind

already somewhere else

and mine finds itself racing

–  o n c e  a g a i n



A Bright Canvas, Musings

h e a v e n s

starry skies are one of the most beautiful things to exist. it is a salt and peppered, jet black sky, full of possibilities.

–  g a z i n g  t o w a r d s  t h e  h e a v e n s

A Bright Canvas, Musings

a / t r y s t

You just sat there, unaware and building a temptation that was hard to resist. I was the first to make a move. I ripped your clothes off hungrily. I traced the curves of your deliciously tanned body. I kissed you, I kissed you till my mouth tasted of yours. Our, a forbidden love, but a guilty pleasure. A knock on the door knocked some sense in me. There stood Ma, gaping at the sight. I sighed in disappointment. We were never meant to be.

I glide over the marble flooring, my paws moving noiselessly. I seek comfort in chewing up Ma’s favorite pair of heels.

a  t r y s t  w i t h  c h o c o l a t e



A Bright Canvas, Musings

s t r i n g s



it was as if i

was made of strings

taut, but fragile

you, a guitarist

strummed the right strings

played the right chords

and i hummed

became yours

in just a (heart)beat



A Bright Canvas, Book Case Browse

April: Book Case Browse

A random pick from my book case is showcased here every month, with as much information as possible given to you minus any spoilers. By the end, hopefully I will have given you a book that will be your new favorite, or one you know you will steer clear of.


Feature of the month: Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom

“You know what that reflects? Unsatisfied lives. Unfulfilled lives. Lives that haven’t found meaning. Because if you have found your meaning in your life, you don’t want to go back. You want to go forward. You want to see more, do more […].”


If I remember correctly, this might have been my very first non-fiction book. To say that this book moved me would be an understatement. It had me almost in tears and smiling like crazy as I read it on a train. This book is real. And by real I mean that Morrie hasn’t sugarcoated life, he talks about all the crap that life is going to throw at you in terms of relationships, regrets, losses, love, marriage, parenthood, trauma and more. He knows its ugly and he tells that to you plain, and straight. But, when he says it, it is delivered as a very gentle reminder. And with several ways you can live a life that is satisfies and fulfills you. He tells you how your life can have more meaning.

And if it so happens, that after reading the life lessons, you feel that you have not gained much in terms of bringing a change in your life — the least you will have read is a really good story of a man who enjoyed his life to the fullest and did not let his past cloud or taint his present and future.

At 192 pages, this book is a short read and also very light as far as the language it concerned. But it is powerful and moving, and will brighten up your day a little despite its inevitable ending.


Even though I loved this book, I still remain a little bit wary of non-fiction and thus I am unable to rate this book higher.

Rating: 🍍🍍🍍🍍 / 5




[ Find the Book Case Browse from March here ]

A Bright Canvas, Musings

b i b l i o p h i l e

your fingers trailed down me like

they were brushing across the spines

of books you have loved. tender and

gentle, tracing the covers that are

slightly frayed. and in that moment, i


–  i f  t h i s  w a s  l o v e  t h e n  i  d i d n ‘ t  w a n t  to  l e a v e



A Bright Canvas, Musings

Little Black Bag

On a cleaning spree, I stumble on an old black leather bag. Cracked at the seams and several other places, it takes me a minute to place it. It used to be my identity. Quite nondescript and definitely not from the high street, my hands trembled as i pulled its tasseled zip. The golden hands moved apart in a grand reveal sort of way – to show me the mess this bag held, of years gone by.

I take a deep breath, hands still quivering and reach in to empty out the contents.

One by one. And thus, let the memories (finally) go as wisps of smoke into the thin air.

I reach in to find an old lip balm. A favorite for when you kissed my lips raw and but I still wanted the color to show. Several bobby pins, all deformed from holding back my thick curls as you devoured me – running you hands down my arms.

A small bottle of perfume, almost empty. The scent you loved as you inhaled it while whispering sweet nothings in my ears. Several bills of coffees, from dates where all we wanted to do was stay up late listening to the other’s stories and having a good laugh.

More bills, now of cheap alcohol and candies that sustained me after you left.

Little heart shaped chocolates, that you always bought for me, now past their consumable date. Quite the irony. Three postcards, crumpled, slightly faded, from the times we spent at hotels around the town.

And finally, my little black book. Full of stories, thoughts and illustrations. Of me. Of you. Of us. I flip through the handwritten notes – more thoughts and things I wanted forgotten. Ticket stubs, some polaroids, all bringing that searing pain back – again.

And then, like a joke from the universe, a brown paper dramatically falls down on the ground.

I know I didn’t write it, because my memory is still just as fresh. Then my hands tremble as I find not just one, but several sheets of paper. All of them with hints of your cologne. Your scrawled script visible through the thin paper.

You left without any words — and now I have too many in my hands. All from you. 

I feel faint, my legs give away. I support myself as I brew a cup of coffee. Not because I like it, but because you did. I make it just the way you liked it. Little milk, about three spoons and brown sugar aplenty.

It is going to be one long night. 



A Bright Canvas, Musings

m o o n l i g h t

the city bathed in the glow of the moonlight. a little girl looked out her window and smiled. a teenage boy desperately tried to get the right shots for his assignment due tomorrow. a twenty-something year old was glued to her laptop screen, unaware of the sight unfolding in the sky outside. a thirty-year old father watched his daughter step down from her table and snuggle in her bed with her teddy. a forty-something mother passed by her son in the balcony, hunched over his camera screen in concentration, and sighed. a sixty-year old grandma knocked on her granddaughter’s door and asked her if she would like to accompany her outside on the porch swing to watch the full moon and chat.

the moon hung low in the sky and beamed at the little humans on earth, each with different priorities and yet the same at the end of the day.

–  m o o n l i g h t



A Bright Canvas, Book Case Browse, Series

March: Book Case Browse

Here I’ll be recommending a book that I stumbled upon. This book could be a red capret VIP or a very grudging member of my Book Case. The honest review I give out and the latest ‘pineapple’ rating addition give you your space to make the decision of the big question: To Read or Not To Read.

Don’t worry, I will never be giving out the plot line so the former option will always be open.

Feature of the month: Love and Gelato by Jenna Evans Welch

“You know, people come to Italy for all sorts of reasons, but when they stay, it’s for the same two things.”
“Love and gelato.”

Love and Gelato. Doesn’t the title already scream Italy? Lina’s life is turned upside down when her mother sends her to live in a cemetery (yes, you did read that right. in a cemetery) with Howard in Italy. While there, Lina stumbles on piece after piece of her mother’s past that turns her life even more upside down (yes, you will be surprised to realize as you read the book that it was still possible!). She has a special certain someone (who is already taken by basically a model) by her side as she unravels hushed up secrets. On this whirlwind of a trip, Lina discovers Florence, her mother’s past and herself side by side. Not to mention, a new family member is discovered as well.

Exceptionally written, this young-adult fiction strums every chord of your heart. You will be left in awe not only by the scenes of Italy and its bursting flavors that are so vividly painted, but also with the resilience that a teenage Lina shows in a very tumultuous phase of her life. Of course, this book also gives you its share of young adult drama, but Welch delivers it as smoothly as a scoop of straciatella gelato.

I would really recommend this beautiful piece of work as your next read.

Rating: 🍍🍍🍍🍍.5 / 5



A Bright Canvas, Musings, Series


laugh is the first of  a new series of stand-alone snippets from larger stories. I share my musings on instagram, but posting larger pieces is a little inconvenient for the reader, and thus they find home here.

The whole office had noticed how distracted he had been the past few days. And not to mention, quite relaxed and lenient. While the office murmured and speculated about the reasons that brought about this change, he stared out the window at the crowds in the street. The hustle and bustle was audible even at the 15th floor. But he wasn’t listening, or looking. He was thinking. About her. She had suddenly become such an integral part of his life. He knew it wasn’t love at first sight. How crazy was that? No, no definitely not at first sight. Wait, love? Was he in love? For the past few years his relationships had never been serious. He couldn’t remember actually feeling this way about any lady he had been with. Ever.

Something else was tugging at his brain too. Just like the rest of the office, he wondered what had caused this change in his feelings. They had been on the Ferris wheel at the local carnival and she had told him stories about how she used to be scared to death of riding one when she was little. Then they had gone to that restaurant all the way at the other end of the city for simply pizza that they could’ve had anywhere else on the way but she had insisted that it wasn’t simply pizza and any other restaurant doesn’t make them as tasty as that one did. And then she had wrinkled her nose like she does when she finds his comments completely unreasonable. In a light hearted way though. After the meal he had silently agreed with her. Then the time they were sitting by the lake, barefoot and their feet dangling just inches above the water. He had said something, that she had found immensely funny. First she had widened her eyes as she took it in and then cracked up with that laugh of hers. Her brown eyes caught the rays of the sunlight and shone as crinkles gathered around her eyes and her mouth split into a wide smile and then a laugh. He couldn’t remember what he had said. Not after that smile and those eyes that he stared into spellbound for the time when she was laughing. Her teeth were straight, but not completely. Her front teeth just slightly angled. Her eyes, god her eyes. Normally they were a simple shade of brown, but in the sunlight, they danced and changed colours and sometimes even had a sunset of their own. And then her laugh. He had never heard any woman in his life laugh like that. It was a carefree and open laugh. An appreciative one. When she laughed, you felt special. It wasn’t that she rarely laughed and that they were hard earned. No. But when she did, it was so heartfelt that it just…simply made you feel special for having made her laugh like that.

He shook his head and tried to bring her out of his thoughts. Then he smiled and was a little bit at peace knowing what had intensified his feelings for her