I have become used to listening, to the birds chirping incessantly day in, day out. I spend hours gazing at the night sky, so bright, full of stars, wondering how their light escaped my eyes

I wake up to the call of peacocks, persuading light showers to grace their humble tree. The air has never felt fresher, the cool morning breeze flitting in and out of my dishevelled hair, which I don’t feel like perfecting for the wandering gaze of strangers

I was afraid at the beginning of having to spend time with a dark reservoir of dreams and desires, scared of looking at my inner self, frightened to unravel memories I had buried deep in my head. But now my being seems so much at ease, with itself and with nature, with the warm sunlight and the fragrant blossoms gone with the wind

I feel lighter and happier, loved and cared for, with no honking cars to remind of evening rush or vulgar music from the community complex

It seems I have comfortably nestled in the new normal of contemplation and optimism, though diseases lurk around in hidden corners.