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.

Little hands are desperate for a robot to play with. Nature comes up with its version until a real one can be found. Nature steps onto the  "adventure" trail.

A Smile: Readying to face an interview,                   your mind goes back               to those childhood days...                              when,       with an 'exam pad' and pencil box                   clutched in hand,          a nervous look on your face,               you rushed into school                   to write the term exam,                 and a motherly face          with a 'bright n' sunny' smile,             wished you... lots of luck.              Nature pins endless smiles       ...

A new season comes knocking... Winter readies to depart, lugging its baggage... the layers of dense fog, the swirling rolls of mist, the dewy particles dotting the landscape, the sheets of shivery air, the chill encrusted cloaks encasing the atmosphere. Meanwhile... an eager sun is flexing its muscles, awakening the sleepy sunbeams, nudging them into action with extra sweeps of warmth, sending messengers to light up every nook and cranny, the long awaited dose of cheer enslaving the bees and the butterflies, bringing forth, a profusion of long withheld, seasonal buds and flowers that wows audiences. Nature sprinkles magical glitter over the Earth as it enacts a year-long drama, Bewitching Seasons.

Remembering... a leader, his way of life, his commitment to a Nation. "The good man is the friend of all living things." - The Mahatma

An abnormal happening... A precision approach:  Surgical removal Recovery: A fresh breath of life Nature unlocks its 'rejuvenation' software.

Amidst the clank of wheels, a rushing past, a slowing down, the sudden jolt, the long halts, the muted chatter of passengers inside the maroon hued coaches, the noisy n' familiar sounds of the coffee and samosa vendors calling out in cajoling voices trying to drive away the lethargy, the rows of symmetrically arranged heads of yellow that flash past within a second, leave me longing for a second look, as I gaze through the glass window, a scene that stays put in my mind, bringing my travel weary, jagged thoughts to order, awakening a glorious feel of the whimsical outdoors, whizzing past alongside a rushing train, I sense an  'alert' making its way, deep into my muddled mind, caught in the throes of a chugging rhythm, flashing a message... 'Nature' is busy reopening its creative diary, readying a stunner.

Sometimes... a rearrangement, adds to the interest. Potted greens are enjoying being gazed upon by curious eyes, in a modern outdoor setting and are dreaming of the prospect of being shifted around once in a while. Also wishing... for some books alongside, to add to the homey atmosphere.   

A tale begins... The lake drew crowds. Children played under the trees. Birds arrived Nests and fledglings  dotted the scene. The lake fed water to many a locality. Along came drought... The rains went far far away. The lake reduced in size. Filth and sewage crept in. The colour of the water puzzled many. People walked past wrinkling their noses at the smell. The lake  dried up. Trees were felled. The land was barren. Birds gave it a miss. The sand laden trucks took over. The 'premium' land was eyed... Encroachments came up. Huts, buildings, a colony, shops,... Through the windows, the echo of quacking ducks and a shimmering n' placid expanse of water, with a cool breeze blowing in, caressing the cheeks with dots of moisture, went missing. Was there ever a lake? Old-timers nod their heads. Near the window of a tenement, which rests upon a 'once  picturesque' lake bed, sits a big sparkling can of drinking water, delive...

A walk brings to light a headless apparition. Kids passing by, peer at the eerie figure. A rotting tree trunk, eaten by hungry termites, gazes at you, with that haunted 'no more tears left' look, speaking silent tales of  a glorious  past, when wisps of sunlight would slide through its swaying green crown, playing a game of 'dance to the wind' over hordes of busy ants, marching in line over the hardened sand below, reminding you of a yet 'unfinished' task, for the present as well as future generations - planting and nurturing more trees.

It is beyond comprehension. The pre programmed process of the blooming of a flower keeps you guessing. Will it happen today, tomorrow or later? Sometimes your calculations go awry and do not coincide with Nature's. Nature's script varies.

A child's wishful thinking... If only coconuts grew on the ground... If only I could change a flower into any colour... If only trees grew tall in a day... If only a butterfly would land upon my stone bench... If only someone would paint a white line dividing the vast sky... If only my drawing of the sun came alive... Surprise! Some wishes do come true. A child's fascination with quirks of Nature knows no boundaries.

Inching its way up a delicate stalk, brushing the curved edges of beckoning boats of green, fine tuned by an artistic sun, tiptoeing over intricate  whorls of  light orange hued petals, each tucked in a specific way, translating to an elegance that reaches out and overwhelms, the 'Good Morning' smile clambers up, double quick, tickling the  glistening red stigma , drifts through the air wooing the facial muscles, recharging  inbuilt 'feel good' batteries, initiating the beginnings of an involuntary smile, the moment you pause for a look. Your morning begins... anew, when you let drop those packs of smiles. The 'Good Morning' smile... it's definitely contagious.

Pausing for a minute to gaze at a strong and  'been there long' tree trunk. Admiring a caring being, who has put in a lot of thought plus 'heart and soul' into saving  a tree, a playmate during childhood years, whispering... 'I am there for you,' a witness to the ups and downs of lives in the vicinity, murmuring ... Hey! I am still there, saved from the swing of an axe, by the simple process of making an alteration to the structure of the nearby wall. Nature has a dream... if only everyone, would stop, take a second look and initiate steps to protect the many vulnerable existing giants.

Help! The curry leaves are  flying about. Finally, they are caught, sorted, cleaned and the aroma of the 'curry leaves' spread, pushes the tip of the tongue to the 'fast track' mode. Meanwhile... 'the-will-not-go-away' odour of an orange-jaggery mix, that wafts its way through foliage, tall walls and curtained windows, a sort of tweaked marmalade, eliciting enquiries...'what's cooking?' from down the road, all speak of the endless joy that grandma derives, in sharing the produce from her small green patch, be it the original ones or the cooked ones. The 'phulkas' sigh in delight. They love this... new green-orange delight. Grandma's hands join with Nature's  harvest piles to stir up spoonfuls of joy in a jiffy.