Blue tastes like the bittersweet, more on the sweeter side, lemonade that you savoured on a dry, humid summer afternoon. Hastily at first, but then slowing down with each sip, hoping to relish every bit of the soothing potion. The way it dances on your tastebuds and makes its way to your eyes, closing them in ecstasy, is all you need to feel a little more close to the winds.
Red tastes like the hot ginger tea, one that feels like home, warming your heart on a freezing wintery morning. The soft piquancy awakening your nerves, making you long for something you never felt. As you sit by your verandah, taking in the mist of metaphors, you softly press the lukewarm part of the porcelain cup to your chapped lips and the momentary bliss that follows, stays in your heart forever.
Green tastes like limca, calming and nostalgic. A dribble of poetry for the parched souls and a whiff of memories for the forlorn ones. How it alleviates melancholy, is still a question for many. One sip of the magical concoction and you're floating across the ocean; of universe.
aadityaJungpura is next to Nizamuddin Dargah and my MIL family’s next door neighbor was known to be very learned Pir . But pir sahab also had a liking for evening cigarette . He didn’t carry any on himself . So every evening my MIL father sat on a bench & took out two cigarettes. He lighted one for himself and kept one next to him on the bench for pir sahab . Pir sahab used to join him and light the 2nd one . This went on for nearly 20 years until the death of pir sahab .
Right next day after the Pir sahab’s death . My MIL ‘s father As a matter of habbit did the same routine . He lighted one cigarette and kept one for Pir sahab .
After few minutes the cigarette disappeared. He only realized after a while what had happened and that his friend was no more and no one has smoked that cigarette . It had just disappeared. He looked around everywhere and the cigarette was no where .
Next day he did the same thing and the cigarette disappeared and again the next day and everyday till my MIL father was too old to go and sit on that bench .
After he was bedridden he told his son To go and keep the cigarette on the bench for his friend .
Cigarettes just kept collecting or falling off and didn’t disappeared like earlier .
Pir sahab’s ghost quit smoking since his friend was no longer smoking with him.