For many weeks, I have been sitting a my chair, sweating and swearing under the monotonous hum of the ceiling fan. A blank sheet of paper, illuminated by the sterile light of a tube light, impatiently fluttering, waited for the whole summer… for the weight of words to hold it down.
The delinquent monsoon arrived today, late by several days. And when it came, it flooded my living room, soaking my carpet from seam to seam. I would have been piqued if it wasn’t for the hue of the sky that coloured my waiting blank sheet. Maybe every wait is worth enduring!
