Sweet Solitude

It’s that languorous, in-between time, when the quiet Saturday afternoon is beginning to melt into a tranquil evening. On days when the world seems like a wicked place, this is an unbearably boring and oppressive time. But today, the young neem leaves rustling gently against my window (the grill of which is in want of dusting :)) hum a tune of sweet solitude.

I have woken up from a short afternoon siesta, and gaze at the sunrays falling on the books lying on my table, a sparse swirl of dust particles gleaming in the rays. I walk to the window and look up at the bright blue sky flecked with a random fluff of white clouds, and right overhead the branches of the grand old eucalyptus reach out and sway gracefully to the rhythm of the breeze. I hear a baby’s wail in the distance, but not for long, there must have been an attentive mother (or motherlike) by its side to pacify it. Hush, again. I smile, at nothing and no one in particular. An old forgotten melody wafts into my mind and the vocal chords automatically remember the notes.

There is much to be thankful for. Peace reigns supreme.