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# A familiar Sunday
- URL: https://solivagant.me/a-familiar-sunday/
- Published: 2026-08-23T15:18:54.000Z
- Updated: 2026-08-23T16:37:09.000Z
- Author: procaffeinated dope

It is Sunday. The sky is shut early. The trees seem dimly lit, but the canopy has decided to accentuate its green to match the dense pale blanket.  
I remember this day. It was a Saturday, at times a Wednesday, but often, a Sunday. I have watched it from the window of a childhood room, from the portico of a university, from the draped facade of an office and I am watching it now, from my balcony.  
The light usually sneaks in through my balcony, rests a while on the couch, lays down on my bed and shows itself out.  
Doesn’t seek permission, nor bids adieu. It casually finds its way in and out. Is Often harsh, but brings in warmth at times.  
It performs for me on most days as it sneaks through surfaces. Animates shadows when there’s a breeze. At times, it arrests them in a rhombus. I call it the trapezium. Sounds like a surface where performance is staged.  
But not on this day! On this day, It hesitates.  
On This day, I yearn instead. I had dreamt a dream through the childhood window, I had anticipated a shower from the portico, reached for a beverage at the office pantry and am now melancholic in my balcony.  
This day usually unveils a deluge, yet today, I hesitate to participate.