I see myself falling in love with great wine. It’s extraordinary that no two wines are the same. I love the mystery that each bottle contains, there’s such mild taste difference that even a day or two means a great deal. I’m still a novice in the area, but even I know how much the wine’s age matters.
Sometimes, we get so caught up in our own worlds that we miss the little things around us. Like in a flower show, all we see are well-watered flowers, settled in protective enclosures. But there are other stuff around that aren’t as noticeable. Like a broken twig, or a timid squirrel scurrying through dense feet.
It was quite the same when we went on a trip to Kodaikanal. We stayed in a hotel with bountiful linen, wooden windows, and sumptuous meals enough to make anyone drowsy. And there was also the most beautiful scenery around us. Flowers of all kinds, huddled in bunches, and pruned to perfection. But there were a few extras as well. Little petals peeking through the rocks, braving the gardener’s sharp shears.
They were the unwanted, the ones the world could do without. They were the spares.
Jubilance is victory. Something worth celebrating, or perhaps the celebration itself. Either way, where there’s happiness there’s wine.
And it’s extra special when you try to click a picture of the wine, and it turns out better than you had expected it to.
It’s Friday, and need I a better reason to celebrate?
Remember the movie, “Mask”? The more I think about it, the more I realize that we wear many different masks in many different situations.
Sometimes we do it so much so that we even forget the real face behind the mask. Such is our fascination.
We don’t think or talk it about it everyday. But when someone mentions it, all we can think about is the earth’s greatness.
That’s how I looked at this topic. Anywhere I go, I’d take photos of everything around me. I’m fascinated by the natural resources that are gone to waste in our selfie society.
It’s amazing how the earth manages to bear all of human vanity, yet give away sights only she can. There is something so pristine about fresh water springs, dew drops on flower buds, unshaven mountain cliffs, and the scent of the first raindrop on parched land. If only we stopped our small talk and turned around to see what we’ve been missing all along.
The Chaos Within 