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Seasons of Life

written by: Ishita Srivastava

 

The beginning of the Spring season is  a new-born baby, too delicate and fresh, beautiful and with various different shades of pinks and reds all set to step into the world of storms and stains. The tinge of pink looks as beautiful as an infant smiles during its sleep, the innocence is evident in the large petals which look like a doe eyed baby staring deep at someone.
The colours are vibrant and with a huge variety creating contrasts and bubbly smiles on the face of the earth. The season of Spring is like a fashion show for the earth to model and to get all the other planets jealous of her.
As Spring fades into summer, the struggles come in like the sun beams in your bedroom window, making you blink twice but at the same time give you a wake up call and lead you to the path to success. The season of summer is the phase of paradox, the happy and the glee all come together like a summer package, but it's as precious as that PEARL in the ocean which comes with the wave but fades away in a matter of seconds.
And suddenly jumps to fall, to give you a fruit and a product of all the sweat, blood and hard work and takes you towards recognition, appreciation and self actualisation and all is seen like a painting in an exhibition. It is the time of life where dreams become reality and actions become results.
As the season vanishes, the winter comes, the peace and calm all over again, the satisfaction is as good as a snowfall on a Christmas morning. The White, then becomes beautiful after a long journey of challenges which now comes to an end only to begin again.

Ishita Srivastava

Ishita Srivastava

Hi, I am Ishita Srivastava from New Delhi. I am a Fashion Design student. I love writing, that's what I do when I'm happy, excited or feeling low. Writing is the most beautiful part about my life, how few set of words have the ability to bring out every cell of emotion from my mind, body and heart. Writing helps me find myself, everyday in the chaos as well as peace. Perhaps, certain people weave their souls with poetry.
Ishita Srivastava

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