On a regular morning in India, I woke up to the magical view of a flock of birds dancing next to the single orange dot in the middle of the dusky yellow sky. Enchanted, my mother and my aunts made up their minds to send me and my cousins out on a walk with our friends instead of having our faces glued to our phones all day. Hurriedly, I put on my dark green sweater and waltzed out of the house, closing the greasy gate behind me. My cousins impatiently waited for me, yelling, “Chop chop, Pihu!”

Soon, my cousins and I met with our friends and joined the stray dogs and street vendors on the side of the road. The relaxing morning breeze sighed over me as if telling me to do the same. As Listening to music on my phone, the birds and I sang along to Justin Bieber. Feeling as happy and free as the wind, we turned past the neighborhood park to a little clearing.

At one point, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed a rivulet with small ducks swimming in it. The scenery was beautiful; the water mirroring the fiery sun, the light glinting off the railing, and the blanket of mist covering the concrete. I felt an air of brief pleasure settling down on me. Following my cousins, I continued on the pink pathway over the creek in between the wobbly railing and the small hill.

Calming and peaceful, the rivulet urged me to spend some time with it, and I fell under its spell. Just then, two of my cousins came up with the utterly ridiculous idea to race down the small hill and see who collides with the hard pink ground first. Shaking my head at their infantine immaturity, I was reminded of the time when all of us played soccer and my younger cousin kicked the ball onto someone else’s balcony. I had a good laugh at the memory. 

While my cousins clowned around, I took a few pictures under the gorgeous glow of the nacarat sun. Congratulating my older cousin for winning the crazy race, I realized how good it felt to be spending time with my family, and how these moments slip away fast as the magnificent orange dot sets. While heading back, I mentioned how our mothers made the right decision to send us on that walk. We wouldn’t have spent this much time together staring at a tiny screen, holed up in the living room of our grandparents’ house.