Living a near-perfect life.
This was the perfect idea of the perfect life I had read in a lot of articles.
Whenever I was stuck in long traffic jams in my city-all I craved was an escape
An escape from this mad rush
An escape from the chaos
An escape from this choking air and the foul smell of the litter lying scattered on the pavements
On days when the park was full of children
All I wanted was a quiet place.
Today all I can do is look back
On the days when I would go up on my terrace
For star gazing
Only to find the sky covered with smog
On the days when I would make a resolution of saying No to restaurant food
Only finding myself indulging in the cheesiest lasagna, the drizzling maple syrup on the pancakes
But today I cook all my meals on my own
Mostly organic food
From roti to chawal daal and all the Indian dishes I despised the most I have learnt to cook it all.
If we set aside the lethality of this lockdown and me finally completing my #2weeknojunk challenge.
I feel like a part of me is missing.
I never knew the crowd of the city, the honking of the cars, the kids in the park, the thick smog, the scoldings of my boss would belong so much to me.
I feel like I am in a perfect paradise.
Or more precisely a Paradise -an illusion.
And something here feels like imprisonment.
I am finally living a life I had only read in books and the ones which I would dwell in when I was low. But in reality, all of it is killing me.
Maybe we as humans have adapted ourselves to all of this. Maybe all we want is chaos outside but calmness inside.
Maybe this Eutopian lifestyle is not meant for us.
Maybe chaos, hustle-bustle and entropy are what we need more than these quiet places.
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