living in isb isint a bad experience. at times i feel im falling in love with isb. specially the sensual attraction of the chilly weather, the islamabad rains, the cool morning breeze after rainfalls; and the most beautiful. the most arousing, the most romantic moments of my life... the islamabad... after rains. the dark brown thick stems under the bright-shocking-green shades... can only make you fall..... fall in love... with isb.
i luved coffee, watching the rains and listening the raindrops of cold winter, from my tarrace... fully packed (sweater/jacket/wool-cap/gloves/2socks/boots/double uw) being a complete woolsack, playing with the clouds of my breath... haa haa...
isb is a somber, dark place! dull, depressing... sad and yet sadistic, glum, and mournful. oppressively solemn, filled with an empty echoing solitude.
its a place with peace; peace that can turn you into pieces.
isb is romantic, finest... to share love.