Aahaa Chennai

There are days... when a morning walk outdoors has an element of horror. The blanket caterpillar has arrived, announcing a new entry for the 'winter blanket contest'. While it gazes proudly at the 'scared stiff' audience, showing off its unique hairy pattern, just looking at it produces an itchy feeling. The horror is dulled, when I spot my favourite lizard out for a stroll, lifting its head, turning this way and that, putting the smile back on my face.

In a never-ending race with time, inside high rises, inside boxed up homes, there are certain things many of us yearn for. Some greenery through the window A potted plant spreading cheer. The canopy of a shade provider The beauty of  fragile blossoms. The antics of feathered vistors

The lemon plant in my backyard, absorbing the mystique of an azure expanse overhead, flaunting a glossy garb amidst the fluttery pink bougainvilleas, weeps silently, swirls of agony, seeping through an elegantly crafted green robe, the intricate whorls of layered perfection, each one emerging day by day, now lie threadbare, bits n’ pieces of maimed green, clutching at the stalks, gasping for life’s breath, remnants of perfectly shaped ovals, some drooping, some turning brown, the agony increasing twice as much, when marauders draped in green n' brown cloaks, their predatory eyes darting here and there, sneak in, their work unhindered thanks to  the camouflaging makeup, their bulging bellies relishing the rows and rows of luscious green tapestry, showing off their striking colors and patterns against a backdrop of tender, ravaged foliage, whose supporting frame, a slender, life bearing stem, now stands helpless, unable to sto

Panels of fading shadows. Shh! It's me...time, tiptoeing, slipping away, taking with me erasable memories of... alarm clocks, layers of stress, of deadlines n' weary eyes, of timetables n' schedules, of many many cups of tea, coffee, of heads n' eyes glued to files n' electronic gadgets, of nights being turned into day, of minds filled with... numbers, calculations, scaling up, profit margins, competition, money spinning projects, with no mental space left for communing with Nature.

Grandma is busy carrying something. What could it be? Left over specks of curd stuck inside grandma's bowl, are crying for attention. Enter a bowl of water wherein, grandma soaks her veggies, to dissolve the dirt and grime. No! Not thrown down the drain. Instead, this gets added to grandma's empty  curd bowl, and is now ready to travel outside... The Result. The curry leaf plant in her backyard, enjoys the tangy buttermilk drink. Weeks later, it turns out that these curry  leaves are extra tasty, extra fresh. The Next stop on the journey: The water used for washing greens is collected. A companion on this journey, is the water used to wash rice. Grandma's mollycoddled rose plant, waving cheerily through the window, is the lucky recipient, of this combined, nutrient rich, coloured water. Grandma's plants are lucky. They get to savour a Superchef's concoction, almost every day, thanks to these 'three t

The grease coated vessels are waiting. The unwashed vegetables are waiting. Soiled hands are restless, muttering a prayer. Parched lips are calling out in longing. Nearby, a basketful of juicy fruits are awaiting a quick wash. The wilting plants too are waiting. The cats and dogs are searching, while the birds  seem to be in distress. So too are the leaves, the buds, the blossoms, the roots and the dry, caked soil. Water is taking a long break... has gone deep into hiding, inside the Earth, inside the wells, inside the pipes, inside lost rain clouds.