“Okay, tell me something, anything,” you said one quiet evening.

“What would you like me to say?” I asked, not knowing where this conversation was about to head. The way our conversation always is.

“Anything. Tell you how you are. Tell me how you feel.”

“Ugh, you know I am not really good at that. I would just say ‘am fine, thank you, thank God'”.

“Okay then. I will ask how you are, then you think of a thing. What is the first thing that comes to your mind? Then tell me how it relates to how you are.”

“Clouds,” I said spontaneously. I did not know how or why. I was just being honest.

“Interesting,” You raised those eye brows of yours. I always love it when you do that. You make everything so mysterious, almost mischievous. “Do say more.”

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes to allow some space for words to emerge. Then I launched into this monologue. “Because clouds look so beautiful to me. They come in different shapes, shades and even colors — depending on the sun or even the city lights. They never stay the same at any given time. Always on the move, wherever the wind blows.”

“They carry a rich story with them. Who knows where they came from, and what stories they carry with them–stories from the other side of the world, stories from the trees in the mountain, and the waves of the ocean. If only we can hear them.”

“Clouds are often (mis)understood as a bad sign — They bring about rain, which will cause flood and traffic jams in this city of ours. They are often frowned of. Poor clouds. Whereas for me, I love clouds. I love looking at the clouds. They bring about coolness, and the promise of rain. And I love rainy days. They ignite imagination too with their funny shapes. People have different interpretation and imagine different things when they look at the clouds.”

“Clouds relax my eyes. They invite me to look far, relaxing these otherwise tired, over-strained eyes muscles of mine. They grab me and make me forget about anything else when I look at them. They take me deep in my thoughts. They make me smile.” I said as I turned my head to you. I smiled, “Much like you,” I said, quietly.

I was not finished. “Clouds are mysterious. They seem solid and somewhat scary, especially the huge, thick, dark grey ones. But they are nothing like that. Bunch of damp air. They cover up something much bigger than themselves. If we look beyond the clouds, there is the sky. The bright blue sky with the sun in the day, or dark blackish blue sky with the moon and the stars in the night.”

You sat there quietly, listening intently to my speech. “Clouds.” That was the only word you uttered, lips slightly curled. God knows what’s going on in that inquisitive mind of yours.

“I have just realized something, though. All this is with one major assumption,” I suddenly said.


“That I am looking from the earth.”

I added, “What if, I were to look from the sky? What if, I were that sky?”

You looked at me and raised those eye brows of yours. This time with a smile. Gosh, how I always love it when you do that.

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