On a day when the sky was an occasional dusty pink.
melted gold and powder puff blue..
the traffic went on
oblivious to everything
except what was blocking the way
and cluttering the day
And then a gush of wind
brushed past a tree
and tickled it into a sudden..
pink laughter
And a rain of happy, shivering, laughing petals
that said nothing much
..just sang out..
there is a lot you miss
when you are stuck
in a rut
and traffic jams.
Reema Moudgil has been writing on art, theatre, cinema, music, gender issues, architecture and more in leading newspapers and magazines since 1994. Her first novel Perfect Eight ((http://www.flipkart.com/perfect-eight-9380032870/p/itmdf87fpkhszfkb?pid=9789380032870&_l=A0vO9n9FWsBsMJKAKw47rw–&_r=dyRavyz2qKxOF7Yuc )won her an award from the Public Relations Council of India in association with Bangalore University. She also edited Chicken Soup for Indian Woman’s Soul and runs unboxedwriters.com.