There are certain moments, dreamlike yet indelible, rare as a blue rose, where you feel absolutely, incandescently euphoric.

Thursday last week held one such rare moment.

Sunlight streamed through the trunk of the car, bathing us in gold. Three of us sat squished into the back – fitted like puzzle pieces atop the thin mattress, covered in a block-printed sheet and a flock of mismatched pillows, half-asleep and listening to the low hum of music from the front seats.

My eyelids cracked open. A brief feeling of bliss passed over me – a remarkable silence had taken over the car, a pleasant song thrumming through the speakers, and for the first time in the entire trip, I seemed to have found the perfect posture to lie down in.

I rose slowly, gradually, like dripping honey, tying up my hair. Opened my inbox, languidly perusing through emails.

Thump. Thump.

A new email. Marked as ‘important’. I opened it, hands shaking nearly imperceptibly, and read the first word: congratulations.

A smile, climbing my face, tugging the corners of my lips. Before I even read the rest of the email, I knew what words it held.

As small, as seemingly insignificant, as ordinary as this achievement was, it was something that I had been looking forward to for months. It sent a thrill through me, a fleeting wave of liquid happiness, a feeling of elation and uncertainty and agitation, all in one.

The point of this soliloquy is not to write a rosy description, and nor is it to praise myself (though a little self-love wouldn’t hurt).
The crux of the matter is… very seldom do you live through a moment which you can declare as truly, absolutely perfect. And last Thursday was one of them.

Yours truly,
Divi