and you've learnt to fall in love with your mother's dusk gold cups of too sweet, too milky ginger tea, and have unlearnt to burn your tongue with extra strong cups of black coffee seven times a day. you've realised you sleep sharp at 11 these days, humming to when chai met toast, ironically.
and you've learnt to write the twenty six alphabets of english with your ring finger on the /dew/ covered broken window of your room, and make your own scrabble board out of your amateurs' artpiece. you've realised you're in love with the /fragrance/ of petrichor peeping through your broken glass window, and don't complain when the mist kisses your face pink and red, once in awhile.
and you've learnt to /smile/ at your own failure at baking sourdough. you've finally moved past the seventh page of 1982, and now know all the lyrics to every when chai met toast song to ever exist.
and you've forgiven yourself for not being productive on day 19th, and have accepted being the world's most average baker, as your sister calls you with whom too you've made amends with over the argument in the march of 2017 of naming your pet golden retriever.
you silently thank her for introducing you to when chai met toast, and slurp on your second cup of tea which happens to be the exact way of drinking tea that delights your tastebuds the most.
you've realised how much you've missed being here, and not there; living in your home, and not simply existing in a house for a few mere hours a day.
you also hope to finally make the perfect batch of sourdough, but till then, you'll very probably feast on gallons of chai, with a side of toast(s). srishti, when chai met toast.
word prompt by @profound.artists
#silverleafpoetry #globalagecaption #scribblersword