Aahaa Chennai

The shutters are open and like the water gushing out from a dam, memories just keep flowing: 💕💕 Little fingers are busy arranging the tiny pots and pans, the mini ladles and  spoons plus the tiny stove on the stone seat in the front porch. An assortment of leaves, seeds, flowers buds, twigs and stones are placed into tiny bowls - the ingredients. The pint-sized lady cook and her elderly assistant are ready. A cooking session is on. Wrinkled hands drop the leaves into the tiny pot. Little fingers count-1 2,3 ,4... place the seeds and flowers inside another pan. It's the turn of the spices next... those broken twigs, buds and stones. Time to.pour water from a teenie-weenie kettle. A pestle is used. Little fingers strike hard. The slushy mush inside the pot makes grandpa grin. Swish..the gas is turned on. Stir,stir... The salt and pepper borrowed from grandma's jars find their way in. Two eager noses breathe in the wonderful smell. Stir ...

For the past week... the green energy flowing from my roots to the stem and  briskly onwards, to the leaves, has gone missing. The sky is dark. The wind is silent. The leaves are hanging  down mutely, unable to witness the happenings... the bier being carried... commencing the final journey. The solitary crow has arrived to peck at the bits of rice that have fallen from silent lips. The loud n' energetic voice that once echoed through 'lung friendly' green spaces (that hummed with 'more and more greening' activities), now haunts the solemn atmosphere but it seems like... that bubbling vitality, that lively fervour has been taken away, severed off with a knife. Come back, come back... whisper the swaying branches overlooking a group of  mourners, as the teary farewell begins.

The twin sunflowers occupying the flower bed are trying their best to spread cheer amidst the pall of gloom. They are looking forward to a 'long overdue' visit from two elderly, familiar souls, each possessing a green thumb... one of whom has taken leave. The impatient sunflowers are whispering... those warmth giving paternal hands seem cold and lifeless. Longing for the touch of those tender, maternal, caring arms, now trembling with sorrow, to step outside and turn this way to wipe away our tears.

The armchair looks forlorn... feeling the pangs of loneliness for the past fortnight. The paternal figure, its lone occupant all these years has forsaken it for a heavenly abode. The wind is howling in protest. The sky has broken open weeping copious tears that makes the sunflowers dizzy. The Heliconia has sent forth a bud hoping to entice him to return to his chair. The crazily swinging banana bunch does not know... the fond banana lover has bid farewell. The gooseberry trees are waving to and fro sending their farewell gifts. The lone  marigold with its orange halo is feeling the pain. The  turmeric leaves are down beating about in a frenzy, asking... why,why,why? The coconuts have lost their green sheen without those caring hands. The puddles are awaiting the broom to tickle them but...alas! the chair is empty. The chrysanthemam buds seem to be saying... it is difficult but let us accept it as God's will. A tribu...

I see ambulances with their lights flashing and sirens wailing entering the adjacent gate... a multi speciality hospital for humans. I've heard of their state-of-the-art facilities. Wish my brethren and I too were offered such facilities that we could avail at the right time. Many of us are struggling to survive by the roadside. Maybe...our fate would have been quite different with some special assistance.

The armchair is still empty. Awaiting the return of curious n' eager eyes, fighting a tense battle in sterile environs with a certain unseen enemy, an infection,  for over ten days... Where are those frail arms that click photos, pluck off my withered leaves, ensure I get enough water, that give me a fashionable trimming now and then and gather my flowers for prayer? Where are those caring arms that drive away those insects, ensure my upkeep, bring in those chemical free nutrients to keep my soil healthy? I've been waiting long for your return... for those witty armchair conversations we've had in  the company of the mynahs and the squirrels.

My dear tree friends, Hello! Through  the window, I can see you silently coping with the heat, the dust, the wind, the fumes, human activities, with those over enthusiastic avians, the hungry  felines and canines  plus those zooming machines on wheels with their jarring sounds. It makes me sad to see this, while here I am, comfortably placed inside a hospital, being pampered, cared for, surrounded by people who need me... though I dream often... of  escaping from the odours of this environment once in a while, to travel, to tumble merrily over mountains, and valleys, cascading over cliffs, meandering over rocks, snaking a tortuous path over piles of pebbles and sand, with my own unique brand of music. Your loving friend, Water.