Bathe in self- love

The clouds hurled in,

And the thunder gurgled,

Today, they ask you to stay out of its way

But there’s never ending delusion of chores

There’s race and charts for pace

Being someone and getting somewhere

The thunder and the clouds thrathened

They will whisk and wash your ego away

Truce brings dead poets and artist

They recommend :-

a Friday feel

A Venus day

A tub of warmth of kindness of eyes

Mixed with salts that take murkiness of hurts and struggles away

Candles of essence of purity and zeal

Singing bowl plays in background

Survival, is not it…

Rose quartz, lavender, amethyst and chamomile

Now look, I brought you effortlessly to Paradise

– Rupika Moitra

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