It is a quiet afternoon around this bend.
The roads glistens with the white glare of the over-zealous sun to swiftly set the summer ablaze.
Even the songbirds snore at this hour of cocoon-like warmth.
The air molecules expand, as full as birthday balloons, floating uncomfortably outside.
The white bay window frames the slight quivers of the fresh green leaves. Lying on a fainting couch, cool in the shadows, away from the slanted interferences of the sun.
A glass of khas sharbat glistening with beads of water condensing on the outside placed atop the dainty carved sheesham stool.
For a solitary afternoon, to lie in abandon across the white textured French upholstery of the couch. An unlimited supply of cold glasses of sherbet with Strauss interspersed with dozing off.
Maybe I too should dig in a sandpit for a grumpy sand-fairy.
I might find my own Psammead.
1 comment:
liked your description of summer! Can relate to it now.. miss the sharbat though!
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