Raising NOA
MEMOIR SIX
"What we make of those stop overs, is up to us.
Those few stop overs, in between that vast, vast reel of motion blur.
Always moving. So, fast that they are mere hints of a colors.
Pastels. I like to call them memories of true colors.
Much like the colors you see in my memoirs.
The Memoirs, of a square."
MEMOIR FOUR
"...The cool breeze and the quiet, only slightly interrupted by the happy chirping of both the birds and I! Being young and tiny can do that to one. It makes most big things and places seem bigger and better. Not just in size, but in promise too. This would do just fine!..."
MEMOIR THREE
“This Walla” she lisped, lapsing back into her Hindi for a bit. “This is my house” she said in her tiny voice.
I teared up mildly, but restraining myself I said, “Got it. Put it in the box ...
MEMOIR ONE
"I look over his shoulder again. The balloons now smaller. I can fit them between my index and my thumb if I look at them just right…They lift gently off into the distance…
One day, I'll ride a balloon of my own."