To be alive. What does it mean to be alive? What does it feel to be alive?
To feel the light breeze touch your skin, as it brushes past in its own quest of a spot to dissolve into.
To feel the ink on the paper glide, like the flower detached from its stalk and effortlessly spiralling along, with the journey of the breeze.
To watch the tiniest leaves rustle in the rhythmic sway of their branches and the joy in being able to discern the multitudes of shades of green among them.
To hear the chirps from within the branches that leave behind an echo near the ear drums, that reverberate their way into the heart and fade into its own beats.
To see the kites gliding with grace in their own preferred layers of the atmosphere and feel a lightness pervading through the body.
To feel the joy of growing up in a rush of a million memories condensed into seconds, at the sight of young buds on plant saplings.
To watch an older person walk past with a content smile and feel connected to the all the other people in the world, just by sharing the same content smile.
To be mad at the revving of engines that tear through the tranquility and wonder why we cannot have all silent EVs.
To sit still and let the mind wander, ignoring the urges of busy work and fading into a calm nothingness.
To catch glimpses as the mundane unfolds itself and morphs into matrices of meaning.
To wonder about the acuteness of feeling that comes from two weeks of distracting pain and a lingering numbness into chaos.
To feel alive, you need to feel dead once in a while.