Vinod’s manjadi

It was a summer evening. I had finished playing cricket with my companions. That day we played in children’s park. I bid adieu to ‘the dwarf’, which was a bushy mango tree which never grew tall, on my way back home. May be it preferred to maintain status quo, because of deep compassion towards the young ones who used to play on it. Sky was clear, with light indigo shade blending with sky blue, indicating sun was bidding farewell to that day, after giving as much light as it can for the nature to blossom. There was a small pool of water near the overhead tank. Two myna’s were busy taking bath, and, it looked as if it was a rendezvous for them.
Bunch of white cranes were flying back to their resting place as part of their daily routine. They spent their day time near the banks of Periyar and adjoining paddy fields. Tall grass which grew in the park had turned brownish and dry, because it was latter half of summer. They swayed as the mild cool breeze which filtered through the giant mango and gulmohar trees blew across the park. I lazily walked towards my house. I could hear the melodious chirp of a cuckoo, which perched on one of those giant mango trees right across the street. I stepped out of the park onto the street. Street had turned into a carpet of flowers which fell from the canopy of gulmohar (vagaa) trees.

I reached the arched gate of my house and observed that our white Pomeranian dog was amidst an evening nap, lying peacefully on the tranquil courtyard of the bungalow. As soon as, I opened the gate he instantaneously stood erect and darted an arrogant gaze towards the gate. When he comprehended that it was me, he reverted back to his resting position. I advanced towards my house by walking along the road within the compound which curved towards the car porch. Road was along the side of a lush green lawn, which was surrounded by a variety of flora. There were mosantha which had blood red flowers, shoe flower plants with red, yellow and orange flowers, the jack fruit tree, and so on. The three tall drooping ashoka trees stood majestically, revealing its humility by giving way to the wind.

My nose could filter out odour of eucalyptus which the wind carried from the leaves of the eucalyptus tree which was one of it’s kind in the near vicinity. As I was taking a turn along the curve, a squirrel scurried across the road. He was not convinced of my friendly gestures, and, did not venture to my proximity. As I took the turn towards the car porch there were many gorgeous looking roses welcoming me home. It was delightful to watch them. My mother was plucking the dry leaves on them, and, she was doing it meticulously. As she took care of them with her tender hands, her endearment towards them was lucidly portrayed.
As I started climbing up the stairs in front of the bungalow, somebody called me. I opened my eyes and realized, I was deeply immersed in a dream. I dreamt about the bungalow and its surroundings, where I was extremely fortunate to celebrate my childhood. It was located in Eloor village near Cochin. I will cherish those memories for ever. Era in my life when every day was ‘Another day in paradise’.

Vinod Menon works in the software industry in Bangalore.

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