The language not heard in words..
and instead followed as a melody..
down narrow streets and through the cracks between cobblestones,
tired feet and the way food tastes,
somehow more than before or after,
train tickets and bus tickets,
remembered dreams tucked into wallet corners…
and coffee new moon strong,,
old cars and new people..
a soul fallen apart and pieced back together
from little pieces collected..
memories faded into a quite song
of a strangers face..
I’ve already forgotten the feeling of these places
and i nevr know quite what it was…….
Kirti Shah
National Institute of Fashion Technology
'Campus Writing' 
kittu dtz jux awsm… loved it