plastic flowers and paper planes  (Paperback, Bhavi Vora)

Like a song on repeat, you cannot get enough of it. It is not the act itself but the times you lose yourself in scattered imagination, glittering in rose gold specks of what the music comes to be in your mind - the freedom disguised in an unending loop - an infinite room of madness. Every time you close your eyes and wish for the world to see it like you do, ironically, like a dusty collage of erosion, evasion and agony of what couldn't come to be. Like clouds in the sky and the waning moonlight, afternoons under indirect sunlight and long hours spent in your bed in the winter, this book celebrates the state of being in a daze with your worries straying behind on a loose knot while you bask in the power of a glitch in time that stops, only for you. Like lopsided plastic flowers that will always remain fresh and the paper planes you hold in your hands before they take their first flight, breathing in wind without living a life. The tender first love, broken hearts, sun burnt hands and feet on a beach day in summer, trees and streets, books and planners, notes and pencils, streetlights and evenings, purple sunsets and lavender mornings on a cold muddy trek; drink it like wine, take it with you on lone walk at midnight, leave it in your bag when you catch a flight, but read it on any day, in any mood or order and it will still bring forth an unforgettable emotion of which you couldn't believe was a part of this language we speak or the textures we touch. This book is for the lovers, the romantics and those who see the world for its details and all that it has to give. Flowers, scents, leaves, paper, wood, incense, skin, fabric or pain, this book touches and is touched by you who reads it. It stays with you in the pause and flies with you in motion, just like plastic flowers and paper planes.