Reopening

Today, Mehra uncle’s two grandchildren were getting ready to board their school bus to attend their first day at school. Two adorable darlings, the kind that anyone would want to squeeze and cuddle over, the picture was so endearing…..   

They looked like two new cute army recruits ready in neatly starched colourful uniforms, ready to face the new frontier (THE SCHOOL) which seemed to be on the other side of their border called HOME.The satchels they were carrying on their small but straight backs seemed loaded with their best friend - TIFFIN BOXES - what they thought was the only thing worthwhile in this whole training. Yes, what else was more important than finishing their boxes, which radiated the aroma of freshly cooked aloo tikkis by the general (the MOTHER).Little did the two freshers know that enemies would take free rides on their backs in the years to come, in the form of textbooks, journals, notebooks, etc.

It was innocence at its first, shimmering like clear blue water, unrippled and unpolluted by knowledge, so blissfully unaware of the perils that lay ahead in the march.  But in the present, they portrayed the simple love of wanting to face the real thing called the world in all their eagerness.

The elder of the two was feeling more excited since he was a veteran by a year  and the younger looked more doubtful at leaving his mom's hand, the only connection to security and sanity.The general was, as usual, giving out orders to the two recruits: do’s and don’ts , which brought a sign of fear on the little ones face. He couldn't fathom what all this fuss was about, for he was told he was only supposed to finish his tikki (which he undoubtedly would) and play.  He remembered his best friend Tina’s advice, “Grownups always talk serious stuff, but that is not supposed to be for us…” Tina’s warning made him hide his fears with a brave smile.

Mehra uncle, his wife, his son, his whole family were waving out goodbyes to the brave toddlers in such a way that a passer by was confused as to whether they were sending their kids to U.S. for further studies or to kindergarten from where they would be back in a couple of hours.The bus arrives, and there is the whole lot of new recruits pushing their faces out of the windows curious to greet the new arrivals, so sweet was their curiosity shown on their little faces, as to who their comrades at this game would be.

The whole thing had an air of amusement to it, that it felt that this moment which lasted not more than ten minutes was just the little pleasure we all would want to savour in our daily grind.

There is a Mehra in each one of us, having gone through this same journey, but somewhere along the way forgetting to cherish these moments…moments that lose their way in the maze of life.

Chai Time

4.30 pm, and it was time for my chai, as I sat at my favourite spot on my bed near the window. I peeped out and there she was, so pretty, so young and full of life, waiting to bloom to her fullest, shaking merrily the rain drops off herself.

She was so beautiful in all her innocence, totally oblivious of her natural beauty that she was shimmering throughout the branch. She was the pretty Gulmohar trying to bloom to her fullest by shaking the drops on her.
She was just one little beautiful life happening in the grander picture of the vibrantly alive tree outside my window. Gulmohar blossoms  cannot be smelt, because they are to be seen, the colors so vibrant and their bursting petals filling the whole tree and the street, making us realize that beauty need not shout, it can quietly blow us away by its mere presence.

Sudden trembling of the thimble branches brought me out of my reverie. Uncle Squirrel was back with his busy doings. Every time I watch him, I am amazed by his energy to climb every branch, moving ever so lithely and merrily that it is so difficult to give him an age.
Actually I don't think birds and squirrels age, they just put us to shame by their living this beautiful life with so much energy and enthusiasm. Ah!! but it seems so they are blessed with a higher intelligence to live life simply, a sort of zen, which makes it so much easier for them...

Coming back to Uncle Squirrel, he seems to be collecting all the happenings of our Gulmohar society in the pretext of hunting nuts. He has a few friends who busily squeak away with each other, making me wonder what the new excitement was all about... was it the new neighbor sparrow giving birth, or was it the tiff between the newly wed  mynahs in topmost branch..... anyway i had to put a stop to my pondering because gossips seemed to be my favorite pastime and  here i was engaging in platonic gossip with the uncle squirrel...

The chirping of the sparrows, the screeching of the parrots amused me as to how amicably all of them lived in the same abode, each having their own space and lifestyle...
They all had their own language which was music to the ears and were all life in its fullest beauty. The other side of beauty were the crows who (ironically are the wisest), seldom bothered about their voice or looks, assuming they had their authority in the abode. The animal kingdom too had its politicians and pageants...

Oh , my tea seems to have finished, but these sweet ponderings seem to have more than made up for the lack of sugar.