One of the best things about my house is the balcony. I just love it. From the 22nd floor I can look over the city and take a deep breath.
It is a moment of peace, a respite. Sometimes I just sit in the chair and meditate.
I can hear the faint honking of the road nearby, occasional barking of dogs and insistent chatter of insects that have come out due to rain.
Oh rain. I just love to watch the rain approach as I sit in the living-room. It swirl around the building and water splashes against the French window. It is just mesmerizing.
And then one of the blocks below my balcony will have an electricity cut and it would be a dark patch of nothingness, surrounded by liveliness of the city.
When I had just moved here I had made love in this balcony. We had put a thin mattress on the balcony floor, a quilt and spent the night cuddling. It was perfect.
Sometimes I feel this is what I had aspired for when I was a kid. We lived in a government quarter and across the road there was a multistorey building. I always imagined what would it feel like to stand there and look at my house.
Today I have almost everything that little kid dreamt of. So I ask myself what next. I am not even half way though the life and I need a new aspiration, but I can’t find any.
Sometimes I feel like I have outlived my purpose.
But sometimes I have a strong feeling that this time I need to look outside myself for my next aspiration, I need to find what can I give back, what value I can add.