The Euphoric Self

Luscious and purple they are,   Wonder if I look in par?   Bounds of beauty they hold All dancing black & bold.   They pride as they get picked,   I sigh, knowing not my turn They glee when it's time to flee I glance with a yearn, wondering yet my turn. The vine is all hustles,   With each cluster pruned. They market well I suppose Doubting my flaw- I oppose.   Then came my day, Picked and trucked   I was sold and bucked. Knowing not what destiny holds my way. I was trodden and squished,   Trampled and swamped, I knew not what it meant Until I realised the place the trodden self was sent. From a trodden grape to a fine wine, I glisten and shine. Purple and luscious I beat those in par

Gloomy clouds delight me. The darkness that engulfs the sky and the whiff of the rain drops on soil sets alight a feeling of quietness within. The gentle breeze then fiercely announces a huge shower with a gust of wind and a steak of lightening. I look in awe, watching the gloominess engulf daylight and shield away all landscapes in sight. Downpours connect me with the inner child and kindle a zillion memories. As a little girl there was a hymn we sung in chapels “There shall be showers of blessings, this is the promise of god”. This song so well connects me with rain every time it pours . And the inner self is bound to believe that these showers are truly gods way of sending blessing down to earth.  Years down the line, I no longer let myself get drenched in the happiness the showers hold, rather enjoy the droplets that kiss me through my window pane. There could be no better therapy that leaning by my window and allowing myself to relax midst the downpour and the earthly smell. A...