dhanya.in

Dhanya to the person who invented ceiling fans. You don't get enough credit.

Dhanya to the smell of old books. They hold more memories than photographs.

Dhanya to my father's silence. He never said 'I love you.' But he drove me to every exam. Every single one.

Dhanya to the chai wallah at Diphu station who remembers how much sugar I take.

Dhanya to the rain that came on Tuesday. The maize was dying.

Dhanya to the stranger on the Rajdhani who gave my daughter the window seat without being asked.

Dhanya to silence. Sometimes it's the kindest sound.

Dhanya to the neem tree in my courtyard. Thirty years. Three generations of shade.

Dhanya to the auto driver in Bangalore who said 'madam, meter se chalega' without me asking.

Dhanya to my mother's hands. Forty years of rotis.