A world through my window

Her favourite spot was her window near her bed. It’s her comfort zone. Every time her heart sank like a sand dune, she resorted to her window sill, and looked beyond the accumulated fog, as if somebody will come to rescue her, some where from the midst of the dense fog. Tearing away the density of the fog, she expected, a hand to reach out, during her lows.

Every happy moment of her’s was spent in her happy zone of her window, she sang to her heart’s content staring out of the window, as if somebody was, on the other side yearningly listening to her. Sometimes she laughed at herself, and at the  fabrication of her imagination. Yet she had to admit she loved every bit of it.

Every morning of hers, started with the bird’s calls to her, or at least she believed they sang to wake her up. Funny, isn’t it? In this era of waking up to alarms in the mobiles, she had her own personal alarm, selectively snoozing away for a while and then calls out to her again. The first thing she does after opening her eyes, is to turn her head automatically to her window, as if heart in heart she wishes, good morning to some body on the other side.

She loved to look out through the window, looking beyond all the mist and fog, slowly clearing away; thanks to the shining sun. The sun light playing peak a boo with the last existing adamant bits of fog. She went beyond all that to see a world only her eyes could see. A world in she and her selective imaginary characters existed, some times to be interrupted by the people who existed in her real life. She preferred reel life to her real life. At least there she was a free bird not tied down with the real world’s realities.

Fantasy, some times helped her to be in a sane mode, delaying her slipping away into an insane dilemma of; to exist or not to exist. Life was always full of opportunities, and her window of opportunities was very much in her bedroom. She was thankful to the window in many ways, when she went blank in her mind, she just laid down and stared through her window , and she felt comforted and fulfilled at the end of staring outside for sometime.

For since she could remember, her bedroom window was her only friend, from the time her legs gave away and she was stuck to her bed, her window opened up to her a whole new world. A world which only belonged to her, where she soared into heights and ran against the winds tearing against the fog. Her window was her world. Welcome to her world through her window.