Rameshinder Singh Sandhu

Words Cafe is the name I have given to my favourite room at home in Amritsar. It’s not my bedroom, but the only room on the rooftop that I use for my writing. Whenever home, I am mostly here, large windows of which overlook my neighbour’s beautiful garden.

I admire the tranquillity it offers, allowing my thoughts and words to flow. Sometimes, even before the crack of dawn, I am writing, taking advantage of the early morning magic, and late evening hours for editing. The day my article gets published, affection for it surges naturally.

Interestingly, it’s also where I am writing my book, and with every passing day, it’s helping me come closer to my author’s dream. When I want more out of my words, I either turn to the windows or head to the terrace for a stroll.

But it’s also where I go beyond writing, often making me feel as if it’s my temple, where I am its only worshipper; and theatre, where I am its only character.

Taking a long flight of stairs, I daily step in around 4.30 am, beginning with meditation. By the time I open my eyes, the first rays of the sun slowly begin to bathe me. I do extend my meditation hour, listening to some inspiring podcasts.

Open any of the drawers here, or even closets: books, magazines or old newspapers will show up as if it’s a library and it does become one during my long reading sessions. When I am done with reading, documentaries narrated in English keep me engrossed, but I don’t play them for my knowledge alone, but also to pick new words and phrases.

Besides the words, there are also moments of coffee, taking me to the table by the windows, and they, in turn, carry me to the sprawling garden in front. Lost in its pleasure, many epiphanies about life cross my mind, and it has become a ritual to turn them into articles.

Considering my many indulgences, if I ever go down to the kitchen for my meals or to meet guests, I feel my room is calling me — sometimes also the book that I was reading or the piece I was scribbling. And for the rare solace I experience, I don’t mind bringing my meals here too. During dusk, I love racing to its roof to catch the town in a rare hue. It’s magical, every evening.

But some years back, when the room was being built, as per my father’s plan, I criticised it. Even when I visited someone, my denunciation continued. ‘When there were already many rooms in the house, what was the need for another one?’ I questioned angrily. Many agreed with me, but my wise father said, ‘You never know what could be of use someday.’ My father was right and I was wrong. I offer an apology and a warm thank you to him!