As a little girl, I was captivated by ceramic plates and cups, often daydreaming of sipping tea or coffee from elegant mugs. Visits to my grandmothers' and aunts’ homes left a lasting impression, where these delicate items were reserved for special occasions. But growing up in a lower-middle-class family, those dreams felt out of reach. I still vividly remember the first ceramic coffee cup my mother bought during my college years. It was a simple white cup with green dots, yet it felt almost magical, as if it carried a piece of a long-held dream. That memory has stayed with me, a quiet symbol of hope and progress. As life improved, ceramics and glassware gradually became a part of our daily lives, no longer reserved for rare moments. Today, my home is adorned with beautiful ceramic plates, coffee mugs, and teacups. Yet, every morning, I find myself drawn to my grandmother’s old stainless steel cup for my coffee. Isn’t it peculiar how life works? The things we yearn for often remain...
School bags felt like sacks of bricks on our shoulders, but our hearts were light and bubbling with laughter. Back then, only pencils and pens were sharp—not the words we exchanged. Those wooden benches were as packed as a can of sardines, yet somehow, they had plenty of space for whispers, doodles, and giggles. Lunches weren’t about exotic cuisines or fancy platters. A humble tupperware filled with homemade rice, chapathis, and the occasional canteen samosa was the real deal. We’d swap bites, steal a little from a friend’s box, and argue over whose mom made the best pickle—all while pretending not to notice the teacher giving us the look. The midday sun was our playground, and sunscreen was just a mythical creature parents spoke of. We ran wild, playing kho-kho, handball, tennikoit, and good old run-and-tag until our faces glowed redder than the evening sky. Sun tans? Who cared! Dirt-streaked faces and sweaty smiles were the medals of our childhood victories...
A balcony isn’t just a corner to sit and relax,it’s a soulful escape. It’s a dream etched in every middle class family’s vision of home. A slice of sky to call your own, where boundaries dissolve into horizons. A sanctuary where the world feels closer yet quieter. It transforms into a picnic spot on ordinary days, when wanderlust meets reality. A silent witness to coffee-fueled musings and midnight whispers. A theatre for sunsets, and a canvas for stargazing nights. It collects laughter, secrets, and the quiet murmurs of solitude. It cradles the echoes of yesterday, Holds the rhythm of today, And the whispers of tomorrow’s possibilities. A balcony is where stories unfold, Where sunsets paint hope, And where life pauses,just enough to let you breathe. A balcony is more than just a space; it’s a reminder to pause, reflect, and find beauty in life’s simplest corners. Let’s not overlook the magic they hold. Au Revoir' Irfa
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