My 100th

Motes of dust floating happily in sun lit corridors

thinly sliced onions

the smell of ghee and onions frying

baked potatoes and chicken

Thin crust cheese and pepperoni pizza

Rasam with spices drowning inside it

coffee mugs – enough said.

bookshelves with old leather bound books

finding old letters, bills and tickets in borrowed copies of books

the first sip of tea very early in the morning

waking up early and not feeling sleepy

waking up early to find the house really quiet

early morning breeze

the smell of cuticura

the smell of sandalwood incense

coming back to an empty home

watching it rain outside

finding old pencils sharpened at both ends

reading things you wrote as a child

stationery shops

watching a former friend from a distance and not talking to them

old and antique-y coffee shops

London and its small towns as shown in the movies

traveling alone in a train

everybody around you reading quietly or sleeping

hot water baths after getting drenched in cruel rain

making people laugh without intending to

sleeping on warm bedspreads on cold nights and waking up only in the morning

sleeping after a bath in the noon

when menstrual cramps are calming down

reading long letters from lovers

a published post

your 100th published post

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