
You know life is perfect when there’s a stack of books and a cup of tea by your side.
Writer

You know life is perfect when there’s a stack of books and a cup of tea by your side.

Day 1
#inktober challenge
The smell of fresh mint lifts up her spirits.
Every morning, Anima enters the gates of our home at 5.30 AM and goes straight to the garden to collect fresh herbs.
Anima is a cook in our house and I have known her since I was a child. Every day she goes to the kitchen with a smile holding a bunch of fresh mint in her hands like they are a bouquet of flowers.
Every morning, we drink mint juice with breakfast and there is always extra stocked up in the fridge. I wonder why Anima is so obsessed with mint, even Appa and Amma never tell her anything.
Sometimes I have seen her from the terrace watering the mint garden and mumbling silent prayers. I felt she was going crazy.
I even went up to her one day and asked,
“Anima, why do you like mint so much?”
She gently brushed her hand through my hair and smiled at me.
I never got an answer.
I was upset, I couldn’t take it anymore so I decided to stop all the madness. At night, I secretly went into the garden and destroyed all the mint plants.
Next morning, I wake up and see Anima sobbing by the wreckage in the garden. Appa and Amma look like they are in a state of shock. They just stood by her side, motionless.
Next second, I see them come running towards my room.
I look at them in confusion and ask,
“What’s wrong? Why do you all look so awful? It was only mint!”
They stand in front of me wide-eyed without saying a word.
I could feel myself turning pale.
Amma bursts out crying, “Lips.. her lips are turning purple. Call the doctor!”
I feel the room spinning in circles and my legs feel like jelly. While being carried in Appa’s arms I see a faint light, a disheveled garden and Anima standing solemnly by the door holding onto rotten mint leaves.

At 8.52 AM, I left home to get to work. I need to walk a kilometer to get to the bus stop. A pretty sunny day so I walk faster to avoid getting tanned. A long walk uphill, carrying my bag of bricks on my back. Huffing and puffing, I finally reach my stop, hoping the bus to be on time.
The bus is supposed to arrive by 9.15 AM but it is never on time. Sometimes it’s early and sometimes it’s way too late. However, I am always on time, peasants such as me cannot afford to be late. It arrived by 9.25 AM, surprisingly the bus wasn’t crowded and I got a seat by the window. Today, seems to be a fine day!
People who take public transport would understand the importance of getting a seat in a bus. You need to pray, pray really hard for the bus to be less crowded so you can get a seat alone by the window. Now, praying for it to be empty is asking for too much!
Overcrowded buses are a nightmare, human life is very cheap here. Nobody finds it surprising to see people hanging from the doors of a moving bus. In fact, they find it disturbing to even look at something so unpleasant so they turn away as though it’s an open can of overspilling garbage.
Sometimes, it even becomes difficult to breathe in buses stuffed with humans, you get tossed around in the bus as more bodies come rushing towards you. You try to adjust your position and try to squeeze yourself, hoping you will shrink in size when the bus gets fuller, managing to balance yourself holding on to your heavy bag, while also keeping a careful watch of not being robbed or molested. However, today is not one of those days, today I will sit like a king on my throne and enjoy the view outside from the window.
While being stuck in a jam at a traffic signal, I notice two little girls selling marigold flowers by the corner of a street. Such innocent and happy faces they have, inviting busy bodies to come and buy their fresh yellow marigold flowers.
The girls are mostly ignored, some quieten them down with a wave of their hand, some ridicule the girls, and very few stopped by to buy. But, the girls didn’t really care, they are happy sitting next each other with a basket of flowers in front of their laps under the open sky. I watch them giggle, laugh at people passing by while also managing to sell flowers because they do not want to upset their parents who are just by their side.
They do not understand the meaning of hardship, they are content. No worries of the world can take those smiles away from them. I sat there in the bus admiring their joy and their simplicity, wishing the miseries of the world do not take away their innocence and beautiful smiles.
While I complain about the hardships of my life, I realize I have a job that pays me every month even when there is no work at times. Unlike the girls, who will have to sleep on an empty stomach if they do not manage to sell their basket full of marigold flowers.

With cold hands and a numb mind
I walked to unwind.
Dull red and brilliant blue
Were the colours that came through..
From bars and her shiny eyes.
She glanced at me cold as ice
Then went amiss
Into the shadows of the night.
Like a stray I drifted away
Into the coldness of her familiar sight.
In her eyes,
You see sorrow.
Sure as hell,
You’ll come again tomorrow.
To seek pleasure in her pain.
An attempt, only to go in vain.

She asked me, “What is life?”
So, I sketched her.
There is something
about romanticising
In old forgotten cities
Just two souls
Standing atop broken-down towers
Like conquerors.
She gathered all of her courage
and melted in his arms.
The rhythmic beats of his heart
Were the only melody of her life.
An obsessive writer
Lost in his words.
He saw many..
Long tireless days,
Sleepless nights.
Never stopping.
Lost in his words.
When the time came to stop
He did not understand
What is reality, what is life..
Until he completely lost his mind.