Today I did one of those perfect things.
It’s raining here. Earlier it was a beautifully breezy evening and even as I extended my walk back home by going to buy milk from across the road, the first drops began to fall. My glasses got foggy, then blurred. My kurta caught in the wind and flapped against my legs with a dancer’s grace and my pace slowed down even more as the melody in my ear synchronised with the falling raindrops.
I climbed the three floors to my room today without it making me feel like I’m 80 years old. Then, I hung on the parapet wall unwilling to leave these bountiful clouds and swaying trees. It’s past 4 PM on a weekday and usually at this time, I would be panting with the effort to keep my lungs inside my chest while my keys play hide and seek with my fingers in the bag. But today…today, I was smiling because my lungs were where they should be, my keys were in my hand and I had a milky sweet coffee to look forward to.
So, what was the perfect thing I did?
Steaming coffee in hand, I dragged my chair out into the corridor. As the rain spray painted it’s art on my glasses, I sipped my coffee, ignored my burnt tongue and looked out into a misty view that promised new memories and better beginnings.
Maybe ending up by the roadside on a highway is not so bad after all.