© All rights reserved by the author
14 August 2025
As the day leaned into evening, the courtyard came alive in its own unhurried way. A clay lamp flickered in one corner, its glow dancing against the cool walls. Somewhere nearby, the smell of fresh rotis drifted through the air, warm and inviting.
You sat on the old wooden bench, feeling the stones under your feet still warm from the day’s sun. The world outside might be rushing on, but here, time stretched like a soft hammock—holding you gently in its sway. Evening had turned the courtyard into more than a place; it had made it a feeling.
Children traced chalk lines on the ground, playing games older than their grandparents. Laughter skipped across the space, mingling with the coo of a pigeon settling in for the night. The sky above deepened from amber to violet, as if it too was finding its way toward rest.
Rajat Chandra Sarmah
Guwahati, Assam, India
Instagram @rajatchandrasarmah
musingofrajat.wordpress.com 