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I found an interesting surface to draw some off beat illustrations of ‘Love’.

Tissue Papers.

Fragile, Beautiful, Perishable, and Recyclable. Just like the expression ‘Love’.

Idea Courtesy: Boring IT Job.

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    “And on that particular autumn afternoon, the tree did all it could, to make the lovers stay there for a little while longer.”

    “I guess I’ve locked myself out. That’s because, I’ve lost the key. I wish people understood this. Because I still feel like cheating on someone when I speak to another person with the littlest of fling. I feel like cheating on my convictions and my soul and the absolute myself. Yes. I’ve lost the key. Intentionally. And I wish to never find it out again.”

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    When I was a kid, Maa always used to ask me to mind the tap before leaving home. Unnecessary leakage of water is indeed not a good thing. I was staggered yesterday when she told me the thing again… And it was not about water.

    A Toast to Love? Naah, Toasted Love, probably. :)

    Every love has its dark side. But at what point do we stop pretending that it doesn’t? Or at what point do we outgrow it? :) Tell me more…

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    Love. Recycle. :)