What glorious weather we have these days: not to cold, not too hot.
For our evening walk today, we wrote Aurat Azadi in beautiful red flowers, those from the cotton silk tree, a tree I looked up on Google.
There is a driver who works at a nearby house who helped us and kept bringing us the gorgeous red flowers. I asked his name but I forget. So, I apologise for referring to him only as a driver. I wonder what he would have though if he knew we were writing Aurat Azadi with red flowers.
Kavita loudly says salaam to the chaukidaar, the security guards and the mochi in our neighbourhood.
We met some children nearby who were apparently 'not playing' but 'talking.' I think they were Chinese kids and then I saw their mothers taking a walk, pushing younger ones in strollers. Or , prams. I forget which is more an Americanism or Britishism.
Kavita wants to come tomorrow to see if the art will still be there. I said, not likely. Also, wasn't it nice to know that we just made this for a moment.
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