A dusk date

The soft board is crimson. The walls are cream. The AC is white. The chair is black. The cubicle is where I must spend nine hours (at least) of my day, or so they say. As I step out of the otherwise monochrome life, there's one thing that doesn't disappoint: the garden in my office complex.

My city boasts of glass-walled buildings whose only goals are reaching the sky. Free and open spaces are a rare find; rarer is an empty free space. I normally don't go out in the garden. I wasn't aware of its existence until a colleague mentioned. However, today I made an exception.

As I signed out, I took the staircase. The view from the lobby was nothing short of beautiful. A half-open door invited me outdoors. Ironic I thought. I stepped on the trail lined by midget-sized lamps. Dusk was almost on his way back home. The wind kept me company.

I just looked around me. Mighty glass structures with concrete peeking out from them. A few lights in the building went off. Perhaps, I wasn't the only one homebound. Then, the bougainvillea caught my eye. Pristine white blossoms spilling out from the pot. The lamps shone just rightly around them. And  here I was alone staring at the sky, the lights, the flowers, and everything in that frame.

Landscape designing sure has an aesthetic appeal. So does architecture. In my routine rush-hour madness, five minutes at this place restored some peace, evoked some romance, and restored the smile.

The city may never sleep. The towers may never stop rising. Chaos  may drain you out. The phone may keep you occupied. Let it be. Breathe. You'll miss out on evenings like these otherwise.

Interestingly, companies shell out a lot of money to design, develop, and maintain these gardens. And except for housekeeping and the gardeners, they do get some occasional visitors like me.

Take a walk, whether it is a architectural-botanical masterpiece or just a pavement lined with a few shrubs. Not for the company but for yourself. Civilization has been screwed beyond repair anyway. So, if you catch a breath of fresh air, don't just let it fade away!

As I kept strolling, a couple sneaked in. No garden is ever complete without a couple, and my lone space had visitors now.  They quietly moved towards the rest house. I quietly turned towards the lobby again. And the lights guided us home. Yet again.