Do not take this moment for granted.

Slurp the smells into your lungs. Look, seek, scan, force your eyes to absorb the sight of the thousand candles painted across the lake.

Urge your ears to paint a music box, one that your eyes can play with every blink when the need to recall calls you.

When you are home in the grey with nothing new and nothing enriching to absorb into your skin. When life is ugly and mundane. Remember the smell of used plates, the spiciest curry you’ve ever had, torn hungrily from the china.

Feel the fat of ghee re-butterfying, the burning candlewax, the tree-song of the flute, the tabla sounding like two round buttocks being boinged like coconut shells.

You are here, now.

Remember this.