It hasn't stopped raining the whole day. Little madam has been water-colouring. I am pleasantly surprised to see her colour preference deviate from pinks, peaches and oranges to purples and blues. Peering closely, I realise, it has more to do with the bleak skies and dark clouds that she views from the dining room window than anything else.
Chotte Saheb is getting restless and has more energy than ever and hardly any place to spend it with the onset of monsoons.
It is a Sunday, after all, and with the little ones gaping at their cartoons, I slip into my bedroom overlooking a wet balcony and a wetter park four storeys below. I sigh as I hold a fistful of rice puffs warmed in the microwave and the aroma of hot coffe wafts softly from a large mug placed on the desk.
I am tempted to stretch my legs and let the stress ebb away, but I don't want to break the languid ambience... lo and behold, there are paint stained fingers dipping into the bowl of rice puffs and sticky, tinier ones trying to secure his place on my lap.
Suddenly, the desk is cluttered with pages of water colour in various stages of dryness and ricepuffs are falling to the floor not unlike snowflakes, but messier!
oh well! the two minutes of quiet were well-worth it!