The morning came in softer than yesterday. The weather has started to change and fast. There's a new crispness in the air, and the light has turned that soft yellow, I feel.
Whenever the sun slips through the window now, my heart does a little jump. I know why. In a few months it will start hiding behind grey skies, and I'll be counting the days until it returns. So I stood a moment longer at the window today and let it warm my face. Some joys deserve to be noticed on purpose.
The younger one had extra classes today, so I packed a few more snacks than usual. A little more in the box always feels like a little more love. I zipped the bag, said "Eat properly, okay?" and watched the door close behind her. Then the house went quiet, the good kind of quiet, with room to get things done.
Maa Durga will be here soon, and the house knows it. I changed every bed sheet, ran load after load of laundry, and cleaned whatever corners I could reach. There's something about the days before Pujo that makes you want everything fresh, as if the goddess herself might drop in and inspect the linen.
Lunch was simple: mixed subzi and a bowl of warm dal. It wasn't fancy, but it was exactly right. I sat down only after everything else was finished, and the first spoonful tasted like home.
By afternoon the laundry smelled of sunshine, the rooms felt lighter, and the day felt full without being heavy.
She's almost here. I can feel it.
Maa aschchen.
Tanushree
