The honeysuckle is finally in bloom. It meanders over the wire mesh, sheathing those ungainly building pipes, and gracefully glides over to the sunshade, where it homes, and from where bunches of red and pink blossoms peep into my bedroom. Now they do. Now they don’t ... Ah joy! As I sit on my bed and look out: green waves.

Somewhere a pigeon in its midst, somewhere bits of a neighbouring building and then at some places my very own piece of that unattainable Bombay sky.