It’s that time of the year again. The fragrance and feel of the festive season are in the air. Fairy lights are up in the streets; the days are getting colder, and being home snuggling under the comforter sounds the cosiest thing to do.
Yes, it’s that time of the year when we tend to stay indoors more, connect with family, and explore some of our baking and winemaking skills.
Winemaking is not complicated as it sounds. It’s not about the skills but about the passion for doing, the patience to wait and the hope for better outcomes coming our way. It’s not just grapes, sugar, water and spices, but the effort we put in to let the grapes transform to the finest wine, of taste, of colour, of texture, of clarity.
I was amused to read a quote by R L Stevenson that “Wine is bottled poetry.” I didn’t quite understand what he meant. But, after a lot of careful thinking, I found myself in agreement with this statement.
During my last vacation to visit my parents, I found a treasure in our bedroom drawer; an old diary from my teenage years. It took me, once again, a little ride through my memory lane. I was amazed by the innocence in those words, and I thought to myself, “did I write this?” It was simple thoughts of a girl who talked to her diary almost every day.
The words that gave me a newer perception of myself from twenty years ago. Sometimes what we write now may not mean much until we pass the phase and come back to it at a later point in life. Because over time, we age and mature, and our outlook on life reaches newer levels of clarity and tastes, like fine wine.
Much love and God bless
~ Chinchu Gibu