Bucharest in the Bloom While I Am Recovering From Covid

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Like a Swiss clock, the Universe has its well-set

mechanisms.

We are often told: "Divine timing, Divine timing".

Nothing happens sooner than it is supposed to.

Wait till the time comes for this and that.

And yet, somehow, the Universe has an utmost bizarre

sense of humour, at the very least, when it comes to my

life.

Now that Bucharest is in the bloom, I am recovering from

a weak of turbulences: a dense migraine, convulsive

coughing, a nose running wild, and whirls and twirls that

haven’t been mine, of the El Flamenco, that is.

 

It is by being deprived of the very basics that one comes

to appreciate life, being healthy, the ability to go out and

embrace the urban colours of love, of magnolias, and of

the now.

 

Same old, same sayings. Maybe!

And yet, when it is you undergoing the experience of not

being able to stand on your feet ... and a week later, of

not being to sense the fragrance of your perfume, well...,

my dearest, it feels ... it feels helpless, to the very bone.

I am a Damascene and I must inhale the essence of

flowers wherever I may be. Simply put, I can't BE,

otherwise.

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Bloom ... Bucharest in the bloom!

Nevertheless, I could cross the street and have a moment

by the apricot tree. Inhabit its beauty. My photo camera

in my hands, blissfully and gratefully, painting the

blossom of the moment with its brush of light.

 

I did not exaggerate, though. It was my first going out

after a week of my embracing the couch, and singing

a song of expectoration, accompanied by the guitar

of a running nose. This time, my dearest, el flamenco has

been about being, being in the moment. And I have

binged Bridgerton in one night and one day. You see...

my system couldn't allow me to focus on writing or

reading.

 

One minute, you crack 11 km, the next thing you know,

you count your steps and the blessing to have reached

the avenue across the street, only to dive into this

blossoming beauty.

And my lips… their contour has felt reddish and cracky.

That is if I'd mind them.

And I didn’t. I didn’t. I have whole-heartedly dwelled in

the present moment and dived into the beauty of lovely

Bucharest:

Alas,

Spring is here!

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