Mangoes. Of every size shape and subtle flavor. I’m falling into a world where all that exists is the enchanting, tantalizing perfume of sweet, ripe mangoes. My mouth wells up.. my eyelids flutter.. my lips twitch ..
“HHHRRRRUUMMPPHH!!!”
I jolt awake, stunned by how real the dream appeared. I lie blinking and up pops Casper’s head from below my bed, centimeters away from my nose. He had been thrown off course by the force of his sneeze, and now resumes the lavish slobbering of my face that is his favorite early morning bedroom activity. The big chump has disdained his usual quota of tea for a saucer full of fresh mango juice and couldn’t wait to share it with me. I resign myself to my fate.
Outside, Garudan is squawking and dancing with rage. How some one could ignore his urgent summons is entirely beyond his comprehension. How on EARTH is an eagle supposed to fend for himself when the dumb girl he has wrapped around his gnarled claw refuses to crawl out of bed?? He runs up and down the wall outside my window, peering into my room all the time. At a particularly nice spot he pauses, cocks his head around in all directions, fixes me with a firm look and lets his jaw drop. A look that would have been lewd on any other male with two legs.
I sigh. I don’t stand a chance, might as well get up.
I stumble out into the verandah with Casper proudly leading the way, bro’s underwear triumphantly clutched in his mouth. Feint to the left, grab the cushion, grab the newspaper with my right hand when Casper lunges towards the cushion. Settle down on the lawn to immerse myself in the cross word, and then give it up as a lost cause.
I’ve been living in this house for 18 years now, but the view still makes me drop everything and just stare. Before my bleary eyes, roses flourish in well mannered zealousness while concerned mynah parents teach their young ones to root for the choicest bugs. And beyond the flowers flows the river. I don’t know what it is called, it has never seemed important. The fishermen are drawing in the nets they cast the previous night. Another man on his slender boat whacks the water as hard as he can, with a stick that is bigger than he is. Apparently the idea is to get the fish all excited so that he can grab the more enterprising ones when they come up to investigate. Batches of women wade up and down and pick mussel from the water, chattering and laughing all the time.
Casper completely loses his head and flies at them. They laugh all the more and splash water on his face through the metal grille. He leaps back, affronted, and suddenly spots a huge cow in the vacant plot next to the house. He launches a fresh offensive and races left towards the wall, baying at the top of his lungs. The cow turns around plaaaacidly, looks at him with mild, good humored curiosity and leisurely chews away. She is very happy with the new arrangements made for her entertainment. Casper sags with disappointment, and then stalks off to help my dad wash the car. He has had enough of being a dog for now. Licking detergent off tires is more fun any day.
I wonder why that particular day is so fresh in my mind. It was just another day, remarkable in no way at all. But now, stuck in my tiny 1BHK in an obscure yet packed corner of Bangalore, I vividly remember every tiny detail of my home back in Kerala. I didnt even need friends, there was plenty to keep me occupied all day. The mango trees that lean over the river, perfect for perching with an Enid Blyton and a bunch of carrots or salted mangoes. The boat jetty, from where Amma once picked out fresh water prawns. The vacant plots all around, resplendent with purple water lilies. The amazing sight of a green kingfisher along with the usual flock of flaming blue birds. The huge turtle that took an entire day to plod calmly across our property and tumble into the river, while my brother and I tried hard to bunk school to encourage it. The flowers, the animals, the breeze that whipped up out of nowhere.
I sigh and step inside my new “home” in an alien city.
“HHHRRRRUUMMPPHH!!!”
I jolt awake, stunned by how real the dream appeared. I lie blinking and up pops Casper’s head from below my bed, centimeters away from my nose. He had been thrown off course by the force of his sneeze, and now resumes the lavish slobbering of my face that is his favorite early morning bedroom activity. The big chump has disdained his usual quota of tea for a saucer full of fresh mango juice and couldn’t wait to share it with me. I resign myself to my fate.
Outside, Garudan is squawking and dancing with rage. How some one could ignore his urgent summons is entirely beyond his comprehension. How on EARTH is an eagle supposed to fend for himself when the dumb girl he has wrapped around his gnarled claw refuses to crawl out of bed?? He runs up and down the wall outside my window, peering into my room all the time. At a particularly nice spot he pauses, cocks his head around in all directions, fixes me with a firm look and lets his jaw drop. A look that would have been lewd on any other male with two legs.
I sigh. I don’t stand a chance, might as well get up.
I stumble out into the verandah with Casper proudly leading the way, bro’s underwear triumphantly clutched in his mouth. Feint to the left, grab the cushion, grab the newspaper with my right hand when Casper lunges towards the cushion. Settle down on the lawn to immerse myself in the cross word, and then give it up as a lost cause.
I’ve been living in this house for 18 years now, but the view still makes me drop everything and just stare. Before my bleary eyes, roses flourish in well mannered zealousness while concerned mynah parents teach their young ones to root for the choicest bugs. And beyond the flowers flows the river. I don’t know what it is called, it has never seemed important. The fishermen are drawing in the nets they cast the previous night. Another man on his slender boat whacks the water as hard as he can, with a stick that is bigger than he is. Apparently the idea is to get the fish all excited so that he can grab the more enterprising ones when they come up to investigate. Batches of women wade up and down and pick mussel from the water, chattering and laughing all the time.
Casper completely loses his head and flies at them. They laugh all the more and splash water on his face through the metal grille. He leaps back, affronted, and suddenly spots a huge cow in the vacant plot next to the house. He launches a fresh offensive and races left towards the wall, baying at the top of his lungs. The cow turns around plaaaacidly, looks at him with mild, good humored curiosity and leisurely chews away. She is very happy with the new arrangements made for her entertainment. Casper sags with disappointment, and then stalks off to help my dad wash the car. He has had enough of being a dog for now. Licking detergent off tires is more fun any day.
I wonder why that particular day is so fresh in my mind. It was just another day, remarkable in no way at all. But now, stuck in my tiny 1BHK in an obscure yet packed corner of Bangalore, I vividly remember every tiny detail of my home back in Kerala. I didnt even need friends, there was plenty to keep me occupied all day. The mango trees that lean over the river, perfect for perching with an Enid Blyton and a bunch of carrots or salted mangoes. The boat jetty, from where Amma once picked out fresh water prawns. The vacant plots all around, resplendent with purple water lilies. The amazing sight of a green kingfisher along with the usual flock of flaming blue birds. The huge turtle that took an entire day to plod calmly across our property and tumble into the river, while my brother and I tried hard to bunk school to encourage it. The flowers, the animals, the breeze that whipped up out of nowhere.
I sigh and step inside my new “home” in an alien city.
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