Let Her Go: Passenger
Releasing Year: 2012
There is nothing to say if you listen to the lyrics of this song. How often do we forget to appreciate the things that are with us and then realize their importance only when they are not? This is the perfect song for me. The tune, the song, and oh! the lyrics.
I was nominated by The Glass Bangle for the Three Day Three Quote Challenge. Both her poems and herself are beautiful. Be sure to check it out.
Quotes are a means of inspiration. They snippets of people, or lives, of times. These snippets are important life lessons, something worth imbibing. For this challenge, my aim is to not just share some small stories with my readers, but also to clear some misconceptions. As a proud Indian, a big part of my upbringing was Bollywood. Some comedy, some romance, some inspiration ad some thrill, it all was- and is still- a part of how I think. To everyone who thinks that B’wood is all about song and dance, the quotes that come for the next three days will prove you wrong.
“Memories are like boxes of sweets. If opened, you can not have just one.”
Isn’t it true? How many times have you found yourself reminiscing about your past. How collectively those sweet and sour memories lighten up your day almost instantly. Your life is a series of events, some of which stand out than the others. It’s however delightful when you chance upon some old, forgotten memories. So, today, just take out you old photo album or your teenage mixtape and bask in the memories of times spent with your loved ones.
For day one, I nominate Sophie.
Inspired by Phoenix’s story, The Delinquent here.
Come one, come all, let me tell you a story.
A story with a message, that’ll soon find glory.
There lived a girl, in the dark nooks,
Unsightly she was, she kept everyone on hooks,
Though she didn’t give a damn about her looks.
She found solace in the company of books.
She was extraordinary, but no one cared for her.
Her mom was dead, a second after she stirred.
She grew fast; her childhood passed in a blur.
Forced to make decisions of which she wasn’t sure.
In her friends, she couldn’t confide.
Her genius, she wasn’t able to disguise.
Her dreams crushed in the same nooks.
And she learnt something from the books.
Malevolent turned she, and brought misery,
To everyone who thought that she appeared nasty.
All who thought that it was beauty before brains;
Full of people, she blew up the train.
She could claim that she built the bomb.
But that would be a pretense for all forlorn.
Still, they fail to unravel her mind,
Intellect appreciated, yet criticized all the time.
Although, it’s criticism is where the tip is more bent.
After all, she was a delinquent.