My small kitchen window, paints a picturesque image of a small sub-urban city somewhere in the north-eastern part of this mass of land. The winter has receeded to hibernate for another nine months. Spring is waiting to be born. The grass is back in its vibrant green hue. The sun is radiant again and I can feel the heat once again. It is so beautiful outside. My eyes capture the serenity through the window. The winds seems to be blowing ever so gently, the trees are dancing to its tune. The clouds are taking a stroll enjoying the leisure of a Sunday afternoon, trying to decide if they should pour down or hold on. Beyond this canvas are there people walking, children playing, grandma’s and grandpa’s sitting on the porch enjoying this canvas of nature, like me? I could tell, if only my wings would move a little, then I could fly and feel the air hit against my wings. I could breathe in the freshness and maybe then my mind would learn to let down all its chores, worries, thoughts and calm down a little….
My wings are finally beginning to move, but my fingers are turning on the ignition of my car. I can feel the wind of my air conditioner. I can see miles of grey roads. The tune of the winds has changed to a Bollywood song added with humming from two children in the rear seats. As I drive, I take in this image, trying to be aloof from everything happening inside. Alas, the list of chores keeps running like the numbers on a slot machine, stopping occasionally to tell me what to do next… I look outside my car window and yearn, yet once again.
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