The hour is dark, I write this in shadows. The warm air of the day has settled in all the nooks of the house. It is night but I day dream - of hermits in caves and springflowers taking flight. This is Bombay in March, heat springs from everywhere. I am Maneesh writing from sweltering Bombay, and this is my last letter for this month. March didn't come easy. Habits and routine remained elusive.
031 - A Matter of Time
031 - A Matter of Time
031 - A Matter of Time
The hour is dark, I write this in shadows. The warm air of the day has settled in all the nooks of the house. It is night but I day dream - of hermits in caves and springflowers taking flight. This is Bombay in March, heat springs from everywhere. I am Maneesh writing from sweltering Bombay, and this is my last letter for this month. March didn't come easy. Habits and routine remained elusive.