The deafening sound of the grilling machine under my window pierced through my deep sleep.
I woke up with a start. Gently I lifted the curtain to peep down. Muddy water had replaced the four beautiful tiles of my building compound.
“They are digging a bore well” I told S.
“Shut the window.” she said.
“No, I need to hear these sounds and would like to see how deep have my roots buried down under that soil since last 30 years.”