The Balcony
It started raining. I was in my balcony with a cup of chai. My Bluetooth speaker was belting out 'Ranjish Hee Sahi, Dil dukhane ke liye aa' Every night you come to your balcony for a smoke. Maybe you know I'm here, but you never look to where I'm sitting. Some nights I hear the strains of the guitar coming from your balcony when I'm lying in my room, sleepless. I know that you like your coffee cold with a spoon of sugar in it, pasta for dinner, you like to smoke cigarettes on your balcony every night after work and when it rains you sleep there. I know it sounds stalkerish, but when our Balconies face each other, it's inevitable that I know. I don't know why, but lately I have this desire to talk to you, ask about your day and his. I haven't seen him since the lockdown began, the other day I saw you taking down all his pictures, you were talking angrily on the phone, you took out everything that looked like was his and threw it out. You smoked a cigarett...