Gopika Nath
Birds chirping, pigeons cooing and colliding with window panes; sharp rasping barks, the incessant chatter of guards and cleaners wafting upwards, disabling that first soft hour as the alarm sings me awake.
Ignoring this odd symphony, I loll. But cars honk as they tread the tarmac. Doorbells chime. A baby cries.
Its mother yells at the maid and that rare moment is lost
when I wanted to snuggle the curves, caressing the idea I slept with last night.