By : Qubra
I close my eyes in self-isolation and rummage through my memory casket until I pull out the envelope labelled ‘Sweet Melancholy’. As I empty it in my lap, the memory dust, working like magic, sends my entire body reverberating with nostalgia. It starts down there, with my legs, involuntarily slipping into those Mom Jeans lying untouched on my bed since long. My shoulders begin contemplating which baggy woollens would take care of the cold outside. My hands reach out for the mustard tote to carry along for the lonesome date, never forgetting the book I am currently hooked up with and my favourite Muji stationery. Lazy as always, my hands reach out to my unkempt wavy curls, coercing them into a neat bun. Speaking of buns and patisserie, my taste buds dance in ecstasy at the kaleidoscopic thought of cinnamon rolls, almond croissants, brownies and bun maskas. My mood, ever so dominating decides on the beverage of the day. It is a tough competition, as always, with coffee, adrak-elaichi chai and ginger-lemon-honey tea fighting for the top spot. Coffee aces it today with ginger-lemon-honey tea as the runner up. As I slip into my sweet melancholy, sleep starts working to the melody of the rain outside.
