Walk home, 310118
My walk home this morning.
Newspapers flying through the air to land in sometimes wet front driveways. Vegetable vendors offloading from autorickshaws. Sunlight slanting in motes of dust, through the branches of trees. The still-lingering nip in the air that makes me--almost-- forget that I am still limping, 9 weeks after the knee surgery.
Steaming, tiny cups of chai and kaapi at various corners. Rangolis that are much smaller than they were last month. A little boy reluctant to get off his mother's two-wheeler, at his school. Beans more tender than a child's finger, and a cauliflower with a caterpillar smiling up at me...that makes me decide to buy them (no pesticides!) Smiling at several people whom I don't know but see regularly.
I arrive home, feeling peaceful and happy. Surely, this is a perfect life.
Newspapers flying through the air to land in sometimes wet front driveways. Vegetable vendors offloading from autorickshaws. Sunlight slanting in motes of dust, through the branches of trees. The still-lingering nip in the air that makes me--almost-- forget that I am still limping, 9 weeks after the knee surgery.
Steaming, tiny cups of chai and kaapi at various corners. Rangolis that are much smaller than they were last month. A little boy reluctant to get off his mother's two-wheeler, at his school. Beans more tender than a child's finger, and a cauliflower with a caterpillar smiling up at me...that makes me decide to buy them (no pesticides!) Smiling at several people whom I don't know but see regularly.
I arrive home, feeling peaceful and happy. Surely, this is a perfect life.