Moved to the city in my early teens,
Studying to fulfill middle class dreams.
Days passed by without seeing sun,
An oven called coaching, I was a bun.
The only respite were those Sundays,
Ah, those Sundays and the sun rays,
Cycle to coaching, that dreaded test,
And then those breakfasts, the best.
One good long bath, ample time to wash,
One day to read news, ogle the Panache.
Crosswords and sudokus, the nerdy joys,
And then that smell, the one to rejoice.
I knew many a heavenly distinct smells ,
Petrol, petrichor, ocean in the seashells.
Tobacco factory and bakery next door,
But none carried a comfort that this bore.
It was the smell of boiling white rice,
Nothing fancy, it must’ve been just nice.
The smell of that only hot relaxed meal,
The whole week’s tiredness would heal.
That is how I started eating beyond it,
The limit that decides if I would be fit.
From one meal in a week to every snack,
I lost the naturally controlled eating knack.
Then I acquired layers around my tummy,
lost my health to foods that were yummy,
Went from a boy that swung in the breeze,
To the man in the mirror, oh he’s obese.
That wild instinct driving my appetite
is a different expression of lust,
It procreates life when done right,
And when wrong, reduces us to dust.
That heavenly feeling olfactory sense,
is a different expression of love,
The one without definitive presence,
It stays forever but it lasts now.
To be able to smell, to be in romance,
to learn to embrace and enjoy that trance,
To be able to not touch and taste,
To not kill that innocent feeling in haste,
Is the lesson we have to learn!!!
WE ALL HAVE TO LEARN!!!