An afternoon at home

I am sitting on the tiny balcony, an Oscar Wilde book in my hand. The air, until a little while ago, was smelling sweetly of pomelo flowers. Very sweet indeed!

Then there was this smell of dust. It is that time of the year when the roads are sandy, dusty and they soil your feet. I find it hard to breathe. There is some dog smell also.

A cuckoo is cooing sweetly, while the crows caw.

There are tiny kids playing cricket on the dusty playground few feet across. I watch the child, a girl or a boy, I do not know. They are at that age where you do not get to know what the sex is from afar, when there are no curves in the body and the hair is boyishly short. I watch the kid, smartly posing as the ball comes, bending the knees like a professional would. Impressive, I think. Myself, I have always been afraid of being the batsman in a game of cricket, afraid of embarassing myself by not hitting the ball once.

Sunlight vanishes as I write this. Conch shells are being blown by the women. Mosquitoes are nagging at my legs, time to go inside.

For years, I have sat on this balcony. When I was younger, this hour would mean the hour of light snacks and getting back to the heavy books – physics or maths. Today, I really don’t have much to do. Today, I am a grown woman visiting home on a vacation. There are only couple of days till I get back to my real life, my work life. Until then, I wish to soak in the smells, the sights and the sounds of this hour. Like a much cherished pickle, for another desolate afternoon, in a city eons away from here.

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About Arpita

Arpita Pramanick is a little, young woman with a bright face (who'd rather not look directly into a stranger's eye) you'll find walking on the corridors of Mu Sigma, Inc. She tells herself she wants to be a properly published writer (by which she means she wants to be published from the likes of Penguin), but isn't really so sincere about writing everyday. So if you see her, tell her to go write. She'll love you for doing that!
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3 Responses to An afternoon at home

  1. This post reminded of something I’d written a long while back (but was documented online later):

    http://yourquote.in/arihant-verma-c3y/quotes/space-place-time-day-wind-make-some-striking-one-time-their-hmo

    Also, new flower name to learn! Pomelo. Thanks for that!

    Wonderful read!

    “…where you do not get to know what the sex is from afar”, is a little humorous, as you put it, don’t you think πŸ˜€ ?

    “Until then, I wish to soak in the smells, the sights and the sounds of this hour. Like a much cherished pickle, for another desolate afternoon, in a city eons away from here.” ❀

    " Myself, I have always been afraid of being the batsman in a game of cricket, afraid of embarassing myself by not hitting the ball once."

    That's why used to have 'multiple wickets' for people like us πŸ˜€

    Liked by 1 person

    • Arpita says:

      I read your quote. Interesting how you blend light and darkness. Curious how both our pieces have mosquitoes πŸ˜€ Thank you so much for dropping by and reading this. And thank you for all the compliments! πŸ™‚

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Sangbad says:

    Khub bhalo laglo…amio likchi…serialized bhabe…aj ekta episode post hoyche…porte chaile A Fable of Time Once check koro…nostalgia…adbhut jinish bote

    Like

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