If there’s one place which makes me feel like home, then it’s the balcony.
It is not even a balcony, per se.
Just the passage between my terrace and door, which happens to be on the 4th floor. It gives me a sort of 360 degree view of the tiny lanes disecting each other giving rise to buildings out of nowhere.
Sitting here, I can see the cross over the church and the temple under the peepal tree. If this were a weekend and i’d be up for a few more hours, I would hear the azaan from the far-away mosque as well.
Nights are usually calm. On weekdays of course.
Barring the sound of leaves being whisked away by the wind and engine sounds from a distance, there’s hardly anyone to give the barking dogs company in their night expeditions.
It’s Friday already! A day of work still pending.
My bums, on these cemented stairs, feel sleepy. While the mosquitoes try to strike a conversation.
The bed calls me to sleep. Resisting that cup of coffee helps in not saying no.
