5:15 pm: I ascend the stairs and reach the terrace, letting out a deep breath. This is my favorite time of the day. For a while, or until baby D wakes up, I am going to remain under the wet white skies with no concrete walls in between. The drizzling rain subsides, there is only an iota of dark clouds floating above my head and they also begin to disperse on their own. Slowly, the birds furtively peek from their deep brown nests, flap their wings and briskly fly high, enriching my world with their vibrant feathers. Only nature can pull off such a show. I am fortunate to live in a heavenly house whose terrace appears no less than the sublime fantasy of every poet. May be I should write an article right away. Or no. I don’t want to miss living the brief moment of solitude so I procrastinate the idea of parallel documentation, take a deep breath yet again and dawdle along the rain-kissed path, reminiscing some good old memories in silence.
5:42 pm: “Divya… Divyaaaa… he is up. Come down. Divya?”, the alert comes from my human alarm Dr.H whose panic-striken voice is loud and serious enough for the other side of the world to pause their work and fly to our place.
5:43 pm: I quickly but hesitantly switch my Wordsworth mode off, put my invisible mom-cloak on and rush downstairs to attend the baby. The idea of penning down a poem rested in peace.