love

Dilli

I opened my sketchbook and drew the India Gate,
standing tall like a doorway to stories untold.
Beneath it, I placed tiny dots of people—
tourists, school kids, dreamers, all walking through history.

Next came rickshaws, buzzing like cheerful beetles,
and a tea stall where steam curled into the winter sky.
I shaded the domes of Rashtrapati Bhavan,
imagining them as golden crowns balancing on the horizon.

Even the pigeons in Connaught Place looked proud,
as if they knew this was no ordinary city—
but the heart that beats for millions.

I smiled as I signed my page.
Today, my passport had Delhi stamped in pencil.

✨ Where would your Pencil Passport take you today?
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The Weight of What We Hold

We often find ourselves holding on tightest to the very things that are slipping away. Perhaps it is because, in their resistance, they show us our deepest longings. They seem to promise permanence in a world where everything is passing. A role we once grew into but now no longer fits. A bond whose warmth has faded but whose memory we cannot release. A dream that once shone bright but now feels heavy. We cling harder even as life whispers that it may be time to let go.

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River Whispers


✏️ Day 6 – River Whispers
Today I drew a river, long and winding, like a ribbon that never wanted to end.
Its ripples looked like tiny secret letters, slipping past me faster than I could read.


I leaned close.
Dipped my pencil in the flow.
For a moment, it felt as if the river wrote back.
It whispered something soft—maybe my name, maybe a promise.
A promise to carry my dreams farther than I could walk.


✨ Where would your Pencil Passport take you today?
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