Ananya has slept the day, today.
A day for her sleep has arrived so much with peace that while she came home from work, she thought nothing could be more beautiful than a sleep.
And she slept.
After many years she slept encumbered into the songs of Love, that could make oleanders sanguine, that could make her a poem by herself.
And while sleeping, quite curious enough she could hear everything that were supposedly happening around her world.
Her wish to go to the hills to learn flute. Her wish to find Artemis somewhere as the protector of the Ecology. Her wish to find her daughter learning the music of August, whence freedom came without being tampered with malice. Her wish to find her husband taking a day off and playing that song on their old Italian piano- that particular song which once moved even the mountains to weep in silence, after they hath realised how the song permeated their rocks and grew little algae right into their hearts.
Ananya had the day of a sleep.
A sleep only a day of spring could probably provide.
A sleep that told upon her how answers to prayers never go unfulfilled if the queries were not limited by the three spatial and one non spatial dimensions.
A sleep that could make her love that krishnachura on bloom just beside her window.
When she finally woke, she saw her daughter had spread those postcards from Berlin all over floor.
She got down from her sleep and sat beside her daughter.
Her daughter Reshmi was still playing with those postcards.
'Egulo kotha thekey peley tumi?'(where from you discovered these?)
She asked Reshmi.
'Papa gave them to me...'
'Papa? When did he come?'
Ananya was surprised.
Just then, Aniket stepped into the room.
'You so early?'
'Bolchi porey, agey dyakho ... eta pochondo?'(going to tell you later, first have a look at this, you like it?)
Aniket asked her as he placed on her hand an artefact.
A prayer wheel made of wood with intricate carvings.
'Kothay peley?'(where did you find it?)
'The boss...he got pleased with my works...and he gave that to me...he brought it from Tibet...he had gone there on holidaying...'
Ananya couldn't find words proper to express her bedazzlement.
She looked at the wheel.
She touched the carvings.
Reshmi suddenly declared.
Ananya gave the wheel to her daughter.
Reshmi started moving it.