<p value="<amp-fit-text layout="fixed-height" min-font-size="6" max-font-size="72" height="80">That evening I stood leaning on this window for nearly forty five minutes. I watched the Sun set, possibly the longest without blinking. Even the Sun knew no one would be on that window for a long time. That evening I stood leaning on this window for nearly forty five minutes. I watched the Sun set, possibly the longest without blinking. Even the Sun knew no one would be on that window for a long time.

It was March 21st 2020. I had no clue that the window I am shutting will not open for another year. Yes, this is one of the office windows overlooking the Delhi ridge. Watching the Sun set has alway been calming. Depending on the season and the month – the colours, the mood, the clouds and the breeze send out varied vibes, mostly pleasant despite the cacophony of  traffic under the building. How much I wish to be back there soon.

Ishtihaar office with its four windows overlooking south and five overlooking west offers amazing views and brings the seasons indoor. In springtime kachnaar and blossoms ooze from every roundabout soon followed by bright golden laburnums, deep red semal and gulmohars. By the time monsoon arrives the green canopy of New Delhi areas is a delight and that earthy smell, the petrichor, intoxicating. That heady fragrance invariably forced me to open at least two windows, the rain lashing against the panes and the aroma of trees broadcasting their presence. The odour would linger for days. In autumn the yellows and the ochres of fallen leaves would tint the skies too, on clear winter mornings one could even see the Qutub Laat. Ah, pangs of separation!