Chrysalism

The first week of May - 

I was sitting beside the window.

The purple sky seemed to act like a faded memory. 

A faded memory that is analogous to cinnamon - it contains sweetness, bitterness, astringency, and also an aroma - bold and yet warm enough. But too much of cloves can be overwhelming and hence, can be used sparingly in our food. The color of the sky causing an awareness that some memories can be restricted and some, need to be infrequently remembered. 

The second week of May -

I was sitting in the balcony.

The gray sky seemed to make me grumpy and sad, simultaneously. I associated it with all the things gone wrong in my life. 

Accepting this sky was somewhat equivalent to consuming cardamoms - pungent flavor and aroma, with hints of lemon and mint. 

Making peace with both of these will help me with the detoxification and release grudges, glooms, grievances, guilts, and ghosts of ghosting.

The third week of May -

I was walking on the terrace.

The orange sky seemed to make a distant promise.

A promise of not bringing back memories that are equivalent to salt - too much of it ruins everything but in the right amounts, it can intensify sweetness and counterbalance bitterness. 

The color of the sky echoed memories of bygone times, producing a hope that good and bad times are sinusoidal. 

Fourth week of May -

I woke up to the sounds of thunderstorms and the sun had already disappeared into an abyss. The sky was neither purple nor gray nor orange. I was failing to describe it in one word. 

Probably magenta. Probably not. 

No, I do not have an extreme fear of thunderstorms but still, I'm afraid of the roaring howls and the loud-crack. 

But the momentary relief of being inside the protective walls of my house is dipping me in a kind of tranquility which is inexplicable.

Probably the best part of chrysalism

Is that we can wrap our cold selves within our warm thoughts, momentarily.

The worst?

It is an obscure emotion.