Bidikshan Soni

In 1898, when illness had already begun to take its toll, Chekhov met Olga Knipper. She was a young actress full of energy, confidence, and light. She was thirteen years younger, but their bond felt natural and equal. That quiet perceptiveness, that ability to read between the lines, would late...

From the shadows, the spirits came. Some took the shape of smoke, others of eyes gleaming between branches. They encircled him, listening and whispering mysteriously.

Only when everything has fallen apart does understanding dawn. That is our human destiny. Wisdom comes too late. The light that follows is felt only when nothing can be changed.

Of the smile she wore like a quiet promise, even as the pain grew stronger. Of her eyes—softer than snowfall, kinder than anything I have ever known. But, winter does not bring my mother back.

Evenings are wrapped in a strange, inexplicable nostalgia, and I surrender to it, unable to resist. Ah, the evenings! How they torment me with their quiet cruelty.

In every painting, he placed them at the edge of the canvas, just like his master, Vincent Van Gogh. After reading that cypress trees symbolize eternity, he began to see her eyes within them, adoring them even more.