At 4.45 am, she woke up. She went to her balcony. The stars were still bright, but a slice of sky was slowly turning pale-white. As trains chugged towards the Nizamuddin station, she watched it change into orange, pink, yellow, white, brighter.
Her personal piece of sky. She has clicked the pics of the same point numerous times during lockdown days. And felt good.
Or is it? Tomorrow she might be somewhere else. Who knows if the sky will be visible from there. Even if it is there, it won't be hers as well. As she does not own a piece of land anywhere in this earth, can she say with certainty that she owns a rectangular piece of the vast firmament?
She doesn't need a slice of the earth, just a place, which will be enough to convince the document-hunters that she belongs here, will do it for her.
But she won't say no to a scoop of the sky.
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