India- The food for our soul is love

India is the land of diverse cultures. Where we live submerged in the sweetness of nuanced flavors of customs that make us alive. Lost in a land of fondness, enriched by the tenderness of beliefs we all are different in existing realities, but there is one thing that binds us together-food. To relish the sweetness of life, we often taste the bitter vinegar of adversities. The melodious cacophony of joy radiates on our abode when the hours of plight grind the periphery of our strength.

The equivalency of life and food is often evident in the metaphorical sense of symbolism. The lost sense of hope thee is the cold-pressed beans of coffee. Waiting to be ground in the churning tunnel of life. We are all fragmented seeds sown in the incessant gloom awaiting the sunshine that thaws us with apricity like tasting a warm cup of tea. As we travel across the nation, the symbol of each linguistic land is the richness of its dishes.

Whether it is savoring the spices of the samosa or gulping down the shots of tequila, as we transcend through the journey we imbibe experiences that feed our souls. The food for our soul is the love that we embrace, that we consume, and that consumes our existence.

Though we say humans are complex beings, honestly we are just simple beings of mortality that are stirred by the complex emotions that add a tinge of both merry and melancholy to our masterpieces.

They say we are the creators of the grind,

The ones that are rare to find.

Humans that view the world through a convoluted glance,

But here I try to change the stance.

We are all but fragmented pieces of mortality,

With a hunger for love that satisfies the soul,

A love that paints the blank canvas of our imperfect art,

A thirst for peace that satiates the half-torn hearts.

The cry for food and the cry for love is the same,

One fosters existence and the other forges the existential name.