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Parth Joshi
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Faeries, come take me out of this dull world, For I would ride with you upon the wind, Run on the top of the dishevelled tide, And dance upon the mountains like a flame. – W.B. Yeats, The Land of Heart’s Desire We stray too far, in the simple act of…
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The lizard that jumped from a high Iroko tree to the ground said he would praise himself if no-one else did… – Chinua Achebe, Things Fall Apart the reptilian world has generally been designated to embody negative traits in the constructs of human…
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Oh, these vast, calm, measureless mountain days, days in whose light everything seems equally divine, opening a thousand windows to show us God. – John Muir the leitmotif of any mountain, any protrusion that can make its surroundings feel insignificant,…
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…she learned words that rolled from her tongue when no one was listening. Firns and striations. Cirques and moraines. Adulation. Sublimation. She fell asleep to their music, and she woke to it. Chatter marks, eskers, and drumlins. Truncated spurs. Corries…
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Romanticism is one of those luxuries that evolution seems to have bestowed upon us once the issues of subsistence and food chain were dealt with… ask it to pump up the adrenalin for a daredevilry, or cough up some dopamine for a ruminating poem, and…
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Spotting a wisp of romanticism, or the divine, in the cold gust of a glacial wind takes a sarcastic imbecile, or the blessed benign… the rest have the customary defence of mumbling cuss words through the parched parchment of a throat… despite the…
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It might be a coincidence — though one gets a rather assertive feeling in the gut that ‘tis not — that the less we splash about in the rain, the more we swoon over petrichor in the annals of internet… Google Ngram Viewer testifies to the fact, with the…
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…How does the Meadow-flower its bloom unfold? Because the lovely little flower is free Down to its root, and, in that freedom, bold… –William Wordsworth, A Poet! He Hath Put his Heart to School Meadows are perhaps the most common pre-conceived imagery of…
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Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade Of the leaf where you slumbered all day Be content with the moon and the stars, pretty moth And make use of your wings while you may…   But tho’ dreams of delight may have dazzled you quite They at last found it…
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A substitute shines brightly as a king Until a king be by, and then his state Empties itself, as dot an inland brook Into the main of waters. – William Shakespeare (The Merchant of Venice) In times when technology makes us feel that the future is not on…
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