A curious cat!

 Let me introduce you to a curious cat, Yojna, who did not want to stick around to the mundane 9-5 job. And well, let's be frank, in today's world it is impossible to even rely on a single income. We all got a taste of this during the covid crises. Yojna, here, had the same thinking back in 2019. To come up with a new idea to do something that she likes. The idea of vlogging was something that interested her. Something peaceful. And here she is, creating amazing vlogs of her day to day life, food, and and beauty of the days. Her vlogs give us a feeling of peace, of feeling and understanding the beauty of simple day to day things around us. Help us focus on small things that happen around us. Her videos feature around a concept of silent vlogging. And after you have seen her vlogs, you would understand that this is so much better than the day to day rush. Her vlogs depict beauty in a simple everyday hush hush. Who knew vlogs could be so peaceful and silence could be so meditativ

She saw him hiding in a corner it was a winter's day she asked him, 'may I sit here?' but he shuddered  away. He said: Don't stand so close to me don't look me in the eye the guilt within may repulse you it's better not to try. Don't show me any affection for I may not return don't touch and soothe my scars for yours will surely burn. Don't spoil your flawless beauty by touching my uncouth spirit run away while you may back to the world where you fit. She said: My soul is frozen I need a little warmth. The world is cold and cruel and there I find no mirth. My crimes are worse than yours I have broken many a heart their shattered pieces stung my own now it lies torn apart. I hate being a trophy woman being kept upon a shelf will you let me save your soul so that I may save myself? and so he stretched out a hand and took her fingers in his palm they sat there side by side

Reality.. We have all been there - it comes in all forms -the small twinge of accepting a lie, a bit of soreness when things fall apart, the random sting of the implied taunt, the normal excruciating pain of denying the voices in your own head. And then there's the kind of reality you can't miss; so severe that it makes the rest of the world die away, until all you can think about is how much you hurt. It obstructs everything. How we ‘man-handle’ our stripped actuality is up to us. We abuse it, cherish it, blow it, embrace it, ignore it, and for a few of us to heal is just by pushing through. Like the other day when I got dressed and went out to meet a dear old friend, she said I looked pale and anemic. Even though I was absolutely fine, I could not understand why she would say that. After passing through the second cup of coffee, she finally told me that Maybe it’s the missing kohl in my eyes that made me look ailing. But that got me thinking. Isn't our everyday getting

He is burdened with the baggage of his own loneliness. Laying down on his bed, the impatience in his voids creeps into him. The pillows lay crushed with the weight of his melancholy. The half empty bed bursts out into a string of evil laughter. The unruffled sheets demand the scent of hot wet passion. Lust oozes out of his skin like sweat and love remains scarce as an endless famine. He is occupied though, surrounding himself with the scent of unfamiliar women. He tries to feed himself on the touch of women he wouldn’t mind replacing soon enough. His happy place lies in his everyday conquests. But it doesn’t worry me. Why should it? These young women have got nothing on me. They don’t taste like me, or buy him hope like I did. Their entwined fingers cannot satisfy his thirst for warmth. They will never look at him with the longing that I fill myself with. They cannot write unsung songs that compliment the rhythm of his melodies.  They can't be me. People use

Cheers to womanhood!!! Yes...I 'm a woman; A bundle of joy; I dance around the house when nobody is home; I'm a priceless shower of love;call me a drug. I'm a princess,I'm a queen. I'm pungent when I don't like; I'm also sarcastic sweet. Call me your mother,call me your sister ,call me your wife...call me whatever. You can't break what I put together. I'm power,I'm the sun; I bring life...I 'm fun. Then why my art,my love is chained in the hall; Over this,that and all... I'm a dose of love,call me a poisonous passion; I'm a thrill that will drive you crazy... Hold me,hold on... I 'll infect you with my love and burn with you in ecstasy... -----------Love for womanhood....a celebration for woman-----

I believe in waking up to a good morning text. Not because you feel like you need to do it or because you saw someone do it in a movie one time, but because the first thing you want to do when you wake up without me is to feel like I’m next to you. I’ll write you just before I go to bed — I always get to sleep earlier— and when I wake up, your response will be there: “Good morning, Love.” I want to hold your hand across the table at dinner, without even realizing I’m doing it. I believe in public displays of affection that never feel public, because we don’t even notice anyone’s around us. Sometimes we’ll be that couple on the train who is sitting in the corner, and neither of us will care, because this world could use a little more love.  I believe in talks, the healthy kind that take on a life of their own and sometimes pass through flushes of disagreement or debate, but always end up back where we should be: the truth. I’ll tell you about my day, and not the superficial