Delhi can be pretty. I know that pretty is not really the right adjective to describe a city but I like the sound of it, the word pretty sounds pretty and Delhi looks pretty now. It rained today; it was not really one of those torrential monsoon showers but one of those sporadic autumn showers. After a long time I heard the chirping of birds which gives the feeling that they are happy, after a long time the leaves have that lovely shade of green, ripped off the brown dust. What I really like is those tiny puddles on the roads. It takes me back to my school days when I would jump on them to splash water on the passers by (what happened after that feat is something I rather not discuss). I stare at them and wish I could just do the same thing again. But I am wary of the consequences now. Guess adulthood brings these strange fears and bondages. I miss the liberty and the freedom that childhood gives.
