No matter how much the truth says otherwise, they seem to have a life of their own. Sometimes they huddle up and share some murky secrets, and sometimes they disintegrate stubbornly pretty much like countries form their boundaries. Sometimes they reflect a beautiful crimson hue, and sometimes pregnant and abundant, they show us their dark side.

Since always I’ve had a thing for clouds. I’ve travelled extensively with my parents all over the country, mostly by road. Enroute, I always found it hard to sleep since there’s just so much to see and absorb about a place. Understandably, when there weren’t any cities, shops or people to distract me, my mind always wandered to the trees that seemed to run past us and the clouds we seemed to be chasing.

People travelling with me actually thought that I was dense since I was mostly found clicking pictures of clouds of different shapes and sizes as opposed to that of the more logical tourist spots we covered. I am what I am though. Clear skies with minimal clouds, grey clouds that cast a shadow over the sunlight we crave for, or clouds that make the sky their canvas and pattern it beautifully, you just have to look up and see their magic!

It isn’t for nothing that clouds have inspired many a poets and lyricists. They give us hope, make us believe in simplicity, help us accept change and teach us the most valuable lesson of all; this too shall pass.

This post has been written for prompt Clouds on The Daily Post