By Vaishnavi Warrier
It’s 10:55 am; the golden sun isn’t making me happy either. Feeling great with just the smallest of things is something that I live by. Be it the slanting rays of the sun illuminating my face, receiving flowers from a special soul, the warm smell of coffee on a rainy day, and whatnot. But no. Thinking about all of it is not lifting my spirits either.
It’s about 11 am on my watch now. I head home, in the hope of finding my brother there. I’ve had the worst day ever. My book publisher has decided to not publish my set of poetry, poetry that I had been working on for the past six months, because he’s handling someone who’s better than me, as of now. A teardrop rolls down my eye. I rapid-blink my eyes to prevent any more of it from rushing down. I reach home at about 11:10 am. I run up the stairs to find my brother reading his journal, on the bed. I drop my bags on my mocha brown floor, and fall onto him, reaching out for a hug. He hugs me tight.
“What happened, my dear?” he asks, in his loveliest of voices.
“He’s planning to publish somebody else’s work. To him, I’m
not good enough” I say, crying.
“That’s sad, I can understand how you must be feeling. Would
you like to do something that can put your mind at ease?”
“Let’s make you some lemon tea,” he says, and we head down the kitchen. The kitchen looks irregularly bright today. I pluck out a leaf from our lemongrass plant and add it to what my brother makes. Lemongrass on lemon tea. Perhaps, a little extra flavor can change my mood at an instant. He picks out a few ice cubes from the freezer and tosses them into my white cup.
“Here you go, princess,” he says and i take the cup from his hands.
I sip from the cup.
“Perfect,” i say and he smiles. I offer him a sip from it, but he declines. We sit in silence as i drink my tea. I finish it in around, five minutes.
“Okay. How do you feel now?” He asks.
“Much better, thank you,” I say.
“So, what are you planning to do now?” He asks.
“I will call up my friend Kia and ask her how I can self publish my book. She did that for her first book of short stories. I’m done hopping around getting publishers to publish
my poems” I say.
“Whatever you plan to do, I will support you no matter what,”
he says. I smile at him. We go up to our room and i pick up my phone to call my friend.
Some people are like water. My brother is like water. Talking to him can quench my thirst for enlightenment in response to a problem, and make me feel much lighter than i did before. Just being in the same room as him can make me switch to a completely different mood. A kind of mood that can make me appreciate the very reason for my existence. To make it count.
My soul transforms from feeling anxious to serene. I feel the warmth of home, even when I’m not physically present. This warmth makes me want to consume more and more water, and glow like the sun, every day.