Sometimes its a piece of literature or a shot from the movie that makes us ponder over more deeply about things of real flesh and blood. When a page of poem endows life to the stage(scene/screen), it will be a synthesis worth moving our psyche 
"The density of a starless night.
My forefinger my brush,
Glistening lamp black my paint.
When your eyes meet mine
In the mating pool of the mirror,
My hand falters,
The line smudges.
Woman, you do not know what you do to me" -
(Only Sometimes a God )
The Indian English writer Anita Nair has once again touched my recesses with her Malabar Mind just like her Ladies Coupe. Glad to see and know about documentaries unfurled from poetic lines and literary perception.
🤔
😍
"The density of a starless night.
My forefinger my brush,
Glistening lamp black my paint.
When your eyes meet mine
In the mating pool of the mirror,
My hand falters,
The line smudges.
Woman, you do not know what you do to me" -
(Only Sometimes a God )
The Indian English writer Anita Nair has once again touched my recesses with her Malabar Mind just like her Ladies Coupe. Glad to see and know about documentaries unfurled from poetic lines and literary perception.
🤔😍
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