“Cheers,” Aman and I said at the same time; smiling as we struck our cups of tea together raising a toast; almost spilling a few drops.
Koi ho.. Yaadon mein..Palkon pe boondein liye,Aaina bani yeh aankhein teri..
Mohit Chauhan’s ethereal song ‘Boondein’; from his Silk Route days; played on Aman’s speakers. The glass sliding door to the balcony was fully open. A swift cool breeze blew in through the door ruffling the clothes on the washing line. Monga Saab, as we fondly call Aman, makes some great Adrak vaali chai(ginger tea). We sat on the low narrow side table meant for show pieces; the hall being devoid of any furniture-a characteristic of a bachelor pad. The only utility of the hall was for playing cricket with a tennis ball.
The warmth of the tea, the cool sensation of the breeze and one of my favourite songs; a perfect start to the morning.
Bheeni si.. khushboo hai..Havaon ke jhonkon ne jo,Chhu ke tujhe chhudai..