• Vol. 08
  • Chapter 09

Ingredients for Happiness

They say, kindness comes from the heart
But hunger pierces a man the most
My mother always said,
So learn to soothe that hunger
those incessant wanting,
those innumerable desires.

Those that sit precariously between the soft folds of our soul
That jagged hunger which only can be satiated
by those deft supple wrinkled hands
coated with the flour and oil
kneading the dough in the warm summer afternoon
soaked by the apricity of the sun.

What is the definition of happiness?
There are many yet none.

A belly stuffed with the desire
to be fed an ambrosial meal by the loved ones
A lingering need that clings to
our soft parts thick as greed
waiting to grow,
wanting to heal.

Those moments pitted with joys,
Those moments pregnant
with the proximity of the loved ones
brimming with passion
soaked with the unending desires
acts like a tourniquet for our bleeding self.


Ingredients for Happiness

As we gather around the whistling teapot
surrounded by the verdant greens of the Gaia
embellished with the soft pockets of clouds
floating carelessly on a warm summer afternoon
suffused with healing and nostalgia in equal measures

Those precious moments
when the air is washed with the aroma
of warm freshly cooked home meal
douse the desires in your belly
and syncopates with the mellifluous melody
of the long-lost tunes.

What more could a heart want?

Than to be around the kitchen table
a sole witness of our contentment and wanting;
for times unknown,
Where every grain of the wood is ingrained
with the little joys and nostalgia of life
lived to the brim
stripped of its loneliness,
brimming with unmeasurable elation

Of being together as one family
kneaded like a lump of dough
as a dollop of the milky white moon;
Waiting to rise
out of warmth,