Open Windows

There is a kind of a feeling that we feel when we see an open window.
A window that has old teak wood with a colour coated green. The grills aren't the modern ones but the long ones , till the sill , the ones we get to see in Jorashanko Thakur Bari or in any house of North Calcutta.
Now as for the feeling :

As you walk through the dingy lane of a bygone place in your mind you feel that overwhelming urge to remember everything that had traced that place. Everything that touched the walls and count every footsteps that rolled on this dusty street.
You again see that window open and a thin layer of a white coloured curtain flapping.
You stand there for a second , for a second under that building in which every room had the same white curtain.
For a second the cinematic flashbacks in your mind starts speaking aloud in its own language : silence.
Its the time when the drifting curtain takes you to places in monochrome and the twilight seems to be pink and beautiful.
It takes you to a place where you can be as useless as a broken sloop .
It takes you to a place where life isn't only about dead flowers at your window but about catching fireflies laughing and thinking.
Its when you step out of the city light phase to rush into an ocean inside your mind and the veins inside you starts smiling.
You explore the galaxies under your skin then.
You see ?
Its all about closed eyes and sailing with the crimson waves to see open windows in your mind.