SCENE 1
INT. LATE EVENING IN MY KITCHEN

Golden light spills over the kitchen counter, gilding everything around me. My phone streams jazz music, not because I like jazz, but because it feels the moment feel intentional.

I stir tea like I’m in a film. I look out as if something’s about to happen – a firework display lighting up the sky, or a mysterious package arriving at my doorstep.

Nothing does. But a seemingly mundane moment now feels far more special.

Whether it’s lighting candles and blasting music just to take a bath, or eating your biscuit like it’s a five-star dessert, we all romanticise life in some way. It’s not for anyone else – it’s to make the prosaic aspects in our lives a little more interesting.

Of course, while an excess of delusion isn’t ideal, a little bit? It’s harmless fun. Necessary, even. It’s the seasoning on the bland soup of life. Just don’t mistake frosting a burnt cake for making it taste good.

One of the worst misconceptions of this generation is confusing the act of romanticising with making things instagrammable. Romanticising isn’t about arranging your coffee next to a book you haven’t read or dressing up just to take mirror selfies. It’s not performance – it’s finding some pleasure or significance in the banal moments of life.

How to Romanticise Ordinary Days

Make a playlist for your life’s “soundtrack”. Narrate your own story (gold star if it’s in third person). Dress for the day you wish you were having – even if it’s just jeans and a t-shirt, wear the earrings. Dab the perfume. Walk like you’re heading to meet someone who’ll change your life forever (even if it’s just the auto driver).

Romanticising things isn’t delusion. You’re not pretending life is perfect, just seeing life through a rosier lens.

CLOSING SCENE
INT. MORNING IN MY BEDROOM

My fingers hover over the keyboard after typing in the last word. Beside me sits a cup of tea, untouched.

To publish, or not to publish, that is the question.

Well, you’ll know the answer if this post reaches you.

Yours truly,
Divi