Now that I can finally say it out loud, here is a tiny-little change in my life. An itsy-bitsy change. I am now living alone, in a flat, where everything is done, managed, arranged by me. (Tiny change.)
I was never one to socialize. Ever. So the silence in the flat is like music to my ears. The solitude is comforting as humans make me anxious. The noises around me are just the ones in my head and I am loving every second of it. But my taoist soul knows that to every yang there is bound to be a yin.
The silence is a double-edged sword, it makes me queiter too. And one of the things which I really really miss, is the excuse to laugh.
When we are surrounded by humans, we find out reasons to smile or to laugh so frequently that we tend to ignore about them. The opportunity to smile loses the face value that it holds the more and more it is shared. While being on the same page, I finally realize how much I love to laugh, despite being accepting and embracing of the fact that I have a goth side that tends to come out so often that we cannot say that it “comes out”. And now I was living my life, in silence.
Until recently, there has been a tiffin service that I was reaping the benefits of and just two days back, I got my gas stove. So I can finally cook my own meals, more on that some other day. I am not a chef. Hell, I am not even a cook! I have been preparing meals for me before this solitude too sometimes, but that was entirely different. So when I cooked my entire meal for the first time yesterday afternoon, I came to a realization which strengthen over the 3 more meals I made after that.
When I chop my vegetables, I often hum a tune alien to me. When I am using the rolling pin, I am almost always smiling. And when the veggies finally hit the flavored, crackling oil, and the aroma of food cooked by my own hands, hits my head and takes me to the meals my mother makes; I laugh out loud for two entire minutes.
There is something about cooking food that is so entertaining! You know what I mean? Something so powerful that it drives me to places unimaginable. The aroma of freshly cooked food has for the last couple of days has amused me so much that I secretly look forward to cooking.
Just to have my nostril drive my thoughts to home and the meals that my mother cook, which is now the only thing I call food.