Definitions.

Saw newly washed clothes hanging on the balcony. The lady putting them out to dry gave them one final swish in the air to remove the last vestiges of wetness before they soaked in the morning sunshine. The moisture sprayed through the air, slicing it with the smell of fresh detergent and a feeling that can only be called - well, fresh.



That's the thing with words, with definitions, they can never capture a moment, never recreate the feelings of memories, never really explain the spaces between things.


How would you define 'fresh'?


The earthy smell that seeps into the air, with the first monsoons, adding the greenery to the environment - and your mind - before it makes its presence felt on the trees and the grass?


How it feels when you are in love?


A baby freshly bathed, sprinkled with the innocence of pink powder and scrubbed clean looks?


Tea brewing on a small quaint shop nestled in the mountains, carrying the waft up through the misty air till it reaches you sitting under a vast green tree as dried leaves crunch beneath your feet?


A million stars glittering against a clear night sky as waves splash across black glistening rocks and you feel happy to be alive at that very moment?


One word, but a myriad of definitions, catching the kaleidoscope of the mind, reflecting a multitude of emotions, and mirroring an experience of an individual life.