I inched towards the door of the train just before my stop. I looked out and then up. It was 8:38 pm and the sky looked like it belonged to me. It was washed clean of all the smog and all I could see were patches of clear sky peeping through rich indigo clouds bursting with what felt like my dreams. My fingers ached for a dip in the beautiful pool of blue-grey. I smiled, I sighed and all I could think was, "The sky is mine."

And then I realised that the sky will always be mine. If nothing and nobody else, my heart will always belong to it. Here on the ground, I may be torn between the shallow seas that I swim in. But up there, among my beloved clouds, my heart collides with nothing but the open sky.

You can see the sky in everything I do. And if you look close enough, you will even see that I am made of bits and pieces of the sky. Everyone touches the fabric that masks your soul but how many truly taste the stillness that lies beneath the chaos. To get to it, you have to be the sky... Open, infinite, vast, welcoming and fantastic.