What’s in the air?

Do the skies seem bluer? Is the sun a-smiling? Is it just me, or is someone playing the violin? Has my heart learnt to sing without music lessons? Has Spring come before its time...and time, skipped a season? © Isha Garg

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The Trial of the Heart

The heart was tried for feeling, the heart was accused of late healing, The heart had nothing to say in defense, for the heart had never known any pretense... The judges were the minds of those, who'd crushed their own hearts like a frail rose, who were devoid of any honest expression, yet adept in…