Aahaa Chennai

There is leaf litter strewn all over. The crow doing its morning rounds, has dropped white patches, here and there. The heat and accompanying humidity seem to hang around, refusing to leave. A lone 'attention seeking' crow, high up on its favourite, green swaying ledge, has been repeating its chorus line, almost hitting the half century mark since the first glimpse of dawn but all these grumblings lie forgotten, as I stand and stare from afar, enraptured, at what looks like a piece of coloured, patterned fabric, framed against a green background, adding depth as a glorious morning opens its curtains.

Once draped in sparkly, yellow blossoms but now, showing off a soft, green garb, offering, tempting patches of shade, for passersby on motorbikes, hidden perches for birds to indulge in endless chatter, twisted pathways for restless squirrels, to sharpen their scampering skills, slender branches, arching up towards the sky, for a gusty wind to display its prowess, a landmark that inevitably beckons, along with the morning stimulant - tea it remains, ever truly... a companion, I look up to. The  'Golden Shower' tree, waves its many green arms, whispering... welcome to my green kingdom.

"My favourite slippers are wet and muddy," grumbles a voice. "Shh! Never mind. Look down carefully. Your tiny seed has finally woken up," soothes another. A tale unfolds... The canvas above has a finished look. Darkness has filled in the gaps. The house turns silent. My eyes gaze outside, though the window mesh, trying to make sense of the blackened mosaic overhead, silent, except for occasional sounds from an almost 'pet-like' frog. Outside, the hot sand, cries, silently, for a long withheld lifeline. My eyes close and images - those bottles of hope - float, gently past, in my dream. Hours slip past... Sudden drum beats of thunder, humming the tune, 'gonna love taking the centre stage...' make tired eyebrows move. My eyes open. Softly descending raindrops, call out to darkness... 'am here to give you company.' Thunder agrees. Lightning follows suit. As dawn enters, the aroma of wet s

Wind sends an invite. Soft, fluttery wings dither. Yellow, green or pink.

Shh! Will you listen? A, B, C, D.............Z Which alphabet should I choose to describe this 'will not budge' heat? The hot wind whispers. P. ..pulverize or B...burn. "Forget such dismal thoughts," whispers someone from the far corner, reminding me of the colour of vanilla ice cream. "The heat has brought me out to make you smile." The decision is made I choose 'S' ... Serenity.