One Sunday in December in one suburb of Mumbai…
wakes up in her cosy bed in a colourful room..in one corner
of a busy household.
The sounds of a morning almost all gone…noon peeking
through the blinds and announcing its arrival bring her to
And yet her mind is somewhere else…she chases behind it
and forces it back into her head…gets up to get on with
the day..and with life.
The moments pass…the sky turns from a moody blue to the
dark grey….she looks up and thinks…so far
away…unattainable…and yet so intriguing…
In words, in thoughts, in emotions, in dreams and in
wakefulness….something beneath the surface..something
that’s fighting to take control…something that’s kept under
wraps, under constant vigilance…she dares not lower her
For if the dam bursts, the tears will never stop flowing.
And yet, as a particle of dust invades her eye…she stops
to wipe away the droplet on her lash….would it be so bad
Shutting out such thoughts, laughing as the moments pass
by…only to realise that the laughter wasn’t from humour
but joy…at the revelation…
I am in love!
She watches through a train window as the world passes her
the sky is still so far away…
her fingers rest on the words in the novel she’s reading…
“Someone up there was really looking out for me”….
life goes on…and so do the tears and the laughter…
So long as there’s the sky above.