thank you

for eyes that woke up to a lovely light; for lungs full of fresh cool air; for a sky that turns gold from blue in a single moment and then red and then blue again; for a father waving goodbye to the daughter he loves; for children playing cricket at eight in the morning; for the temple bell that swings and rings and sings with the wind; for a rickety rickshaw ride that follows all the traffic rules; for a solitary student, studying on the steps of the metro station; for a master of imagery who paints pictures with words, "Later on, she and Father would discuss Grandfather as if he were one of those old unpainted wooden houses that collapsed around them almost daily"; for the strength to climb two steps at a time and still not lose your breath; for the splendid squalor that the city serves to the eyes; for filmy songs playing loud in a cramped bus ride; for a woman that smiles even when she has to run for that bus; for destitute children turning municipal dustbins into play swings; for a migrant family just arrived in the city, the woman's sindoor shining as red as the sun shined in the morning; for a ten rupee ticket that takes you across half the city; for friends who wait for you across the seven seas; for colleagues who smile when they meet; for a girl who slept at one and woke up at four 'cos she has to study for her exam; for a work that is not forced and loved instead; for music that talks as you hum a language you don't understand, yet; for a day that will be remembered for no reason at all; thank you God, for this all.