between the little stars

meera ; xvii | our combined beauty was an affront to the gods

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and yes, the world is a mess and the future is uncertain but there will always be days to look forward to. strangers with soft smiles and kind eyes. phone numbers you will learn by heart. the radiant glow of the moon as you sing to her. ancient temples and forgotten cemeteries. evanescent moments and eternal memories. yes, life's hard but it still remains a gift.

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Your blog is so beautiful! 💕 It feels like an honour to have my post reposted on your blog! ✨💖

You're so sweet!!! Thank you so much 😭❤

I love your blog too! So aesthetic ✨

[ji-jii-visha]

Name Moodboard:✨ Meera ✨

(Pictures from Pinterest;credit to the owners)

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Can you pls make Indian Dark Academia- Bhabaneshwar (Odisha) ???

Sure thing :)

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Indian Dark Academia - Kolkata (mystery academia)

Kolkata feels old and new at once. You bribe the watchman of Marble Palace to let you in. He looms like a shadow behind you as you take in all the grandeur of the ancient structure. Statues, paintings and busts; it all looks like a dream but one oil painting of a woman stands out. Clad in a pale sari, her eyes seem to hold answers to otherworldly secrets. Something about her seems familiar but you don't understand it. Your gaze finds the year 1841 faintly etched in the bottom and you wonder who this could be.

The watchman clears his throat, breaking you out of your reverie. He asks you to hurry and refuses to meet your eyes for the rest of the time. As he leads you out, you realise that there was something he didn't want you to see.

You wander through Putul Bari and the place feels odd. There isn't much left of what once used to be of this mansion, but the essence of it still remains. House of Dolls, they call this place and you're reminded of a certain friend of yours who had once mailed you a broken doll. You never saw her again.

You find yourself within a sea of bodies during Durga puja. The air is filled with chantings and your eyes find it's way to the Goddess held high. Someone tugs at your hand and you look down to find a little girl in red. She wears a ghastly smile and stuffs a single red rose into your palm. You turn to watch her leave. Was she simply swallowed by the crowd or did she just disappear into thin air?

Your hands trace the spines of the books at The National Library and you pull out one dusty volume. Kolkata : An Untold History, the title says. You soon find yourself feverishly flipping through the pages, processing every terrible thing the book claimed. Queen Victoria had once visited Kolkata sometime in 1889. It wasn't an official visit and wasn't recorded in any historical text. A series of peculiar events followed and there was something dark that the Royals hid.

On your last day in the city, you take a stroll through South Park Cemetery. Your friend had agreed to meet you here one last time before you leave and you make your way through the graves as you wait for her. When she finally arrives, her eyes briefly find a spot over your shoulder before returning back to you. You cannot shake off the chills that the gesture gave you but you ignore it. As you tell her about your strange experiences in the city, she visibly pales. I think you must leave she says and turns away. As you watch her leave in confusion, everything seems to set in place. It dawns upon you that Kolkata is not what it seems like. Art and literature thrived here, but so did dark secrets

[devilsxplay]

hello! can you please do indian dark academia - kolkata?

thank you, have a nice day ahead!

Heyy, I've never been to Kolkata so I might need to do a little bit of research on that. Can't make any promises and it might take time but I'll try my best

Thank you for the ask, have a nice day!! :)

Edit : It's right here

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Indian Dark Academia - Delhi (mystery academia)

You spend most of your summer afternoons roaming around the monuments, marveling over the minds of people long gone. you find an old vendor outside Qutub Minar, seated with large stacks of books in front of her. Secrets Of Delhi, the cover of the one hidden beneath the rest says. The vendor mumbles its price and you ignore the chill you feel crawling down your spine when you catch her smiling at you.

The dim light of your candle flickers as you flip through the pages of the book the vendor sold to you. The moon hangs low in the sky, as if intent to see what mysteries you'll unveil. What the Sultans tried to hide, stories buried by time, dangerous lores that might be true; you feel the words sear into your eyes. You brush them off as fictional gibberish as you get ready for bed but you couldn't shake off the feeling that you're being watched. The shadows in the corner of your room shift as if in confirmation.

You vaguely remember your history professor mentioning a mad astrologer who claimed there was a "disastrous" planetary alignment during 1757. Exactly a century before the First War of Independence. You cannot help but think of him now as you run your hand over the walls of Jantar Mantar.

You're strolling through the Red Fort and you find undecipherable inscriptions on a pillar of the Diwan-i-khas. You let your fingers trace the letters as you realize that something strange happened here.

The voices of a hundred sufi saints ring in your ears and your dreams are haunted with memories that aren't yours. You catch glimpses of harems and princesses dancing. A sword dripping with blood and a body buried in the hush of the night. Ruins of deserted mughal palaces where you could still hear the voice of a wailing woman. Delhi's beautiful but she's got her secrets.

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Indian Dark Academia - Colonial Era Madras

(Inspired by this post by @twostarsinonesphere )

it is 1930. you're hunched over a book in Connemara library. the dim light of the candles illuminate a page filled with cryptic symbols. they were meant for no one but you. the white librarian glares at you over his glasses. he suspects something but you throw him a smile and leave.

your brother has been gone for months. I'm going to Gandhi's march he had said. But you're starting to suspect that wasn't the case at all.

you find the diary of a rebel among you're dead friend's belongings dating back to 1858. the pages are laced with dried blood. the entries delineate obscure prophecies and end abruptly, as if the pen had been snatched away from the writer.

you wake up to find a letter addressed to you from your grandfather stealthily slid under your door. someone's playing games, your grandfather had perished in the bombardment of madras in 1914. you unfold it and it's empty, save for a bright red stain in the middle. your hands shake, you know what it is. a death threat.

the air is filled with smoke and the sun burns down cruelly as you wait for your train. there have been uprisings in Lahore. that will be your next stop. you catch a man watching you, his blue eyes boring into yours. he tips his hat at you. a warning. you're being watched.

it all started with you being a mere activist in the freedom struggle but how quickly things changed. secrets dating back to centuries have their claws on your back now. heads on spikes, gruesome murders, sinister incidents. history is painted in blood. it all haunts your dreams. some things are better left undiscovered but it's too late now. you know things that you shouldn't. Let the knowledge die with me is all you could think as the blade kissed your throat.

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Poetry is derived from the Greek word poiesis which means to create. Because that's what poets are - creators. Their words carry the echos of black holes and nebula. In between their letters, a thousand lost civilisations are reborn. Every loop has mysteries enclosed within itself, and every stroke is the birth of tales unknown to mankind. Poets aren't powerless. Their words could create and destroy worlds.

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okay but does anyone's heart physically hurt to think that there are so many people out there who are so so kind and deserving but probably never had their kindness reflected back to them and could be going through a lot and all you wanna do is give them a hug and tell them they'll be fine but you can't because you don't know them and you hate that? because same.