There’s a vase of wilted flowers by my bedside that I refuse to throw away. Outside my window, there’s a tree the colour of the setting sun; its leaves are hanging so loose like they’re about to fall. After a minute or so, a light breeze sweeps one of those leaves right past me. It takes a mid air twirl before gently falling to the ground.
A butterfly is fluttering around the potted plants; there’s a jingle in its flight, but its wings are mellow.
I’m sitting in the NSCI library – one of my favorite places in the city. It is still early in the day, the library is so quiet and my chair is so comfortable. People around me are engrossed into their laptop screens.
My laptop too, is switched on, staring at the keyboard, I’m thinking ‘what should I write?’
I turned 24 on a Friday of the previous week, and for the weekend that followed it, I found myself celebrating with friends, feasting on basil dumplings, marveling at the deliciousness of my pizza, posing before my camera and laughing at every joke I heard.
When I was 4, I remember my mother wearing a black wrap, full length jumpsuit for an award function. When I was 9, I remember her suiting up in a white shirt for a work meeting. At 13, when she changed careers and started selling art, I remember her putting on a flowery embroidered kimono, while sipping wine during an art opening. When I turned 18, she wore a black dress for my birthday dinner and sometime during this year, she held up some red velvet fabric and excitedly said, ‘I’m going to make this into a sari!’