I feel nostalgic when the thoughts of my home town come to my mind; there are all kinds of past incidents that spread across my heart making it feel heavier.
The childhood days, the state it was at that time, the people living around the house, the swing grandpa used to tie each year for Onam, the large mango tree in the front of the house yielding yummy mangoes and ample shade (even now), the smell of damp soil during the arrival of the first rain, the cutie kittens – all-time friends in the moments of loneliness and happiness alike, the huge house ensuring all types of probable spaces for successfully playing hide ‘n seek, the sweet scented wind having all the perfumes from the flowers and bushes around, the minutiae observation of the rain drops pouring out of nowhere, the numerous strolls around the Vadakunnathan on weekends always praying for success in all walks of life, the enjoyment of swinging infinitely without anyone to snatch the swing as in a children’s park, the art of collecting Balarama and Poompatta (Children’s biweekly magazines), the morning ragas from the nearby temple when struggling to complete the homework or last moment preparation for the exams, the forceful persuasive call from mom to wake up in the morning before the bus misses me, the morning coffee of grandma with the hot newspaper, the call-outs from the men selling fish on the road, the quickest doer of all morning-tasks after waking up late, the fastest run for catching the school bus, the jam-packed institution buses during the rush hours, the rather incomprehensible teaching by some of the tutors, the quick afternoon nap during the class hours resulting in the teacher catching hold of culprits, the great effort to catch hold of a seat to sit in the school bus beating all the strong contenders, the weary eyes of parents waiting at the bus stop for their children to return from school, the lovely ever-memorable walk from the bus stop back to home narrating all the heroic stories and escapes of the day, the scrumptious vada/pazham pori and chaaya (kerala snacks) in the offing for the evening, the playground of badminton with mom in the front of the house – frequently losing the cork to the deep branches of the great mango tree, the boredom of homework abashing the mind ‘n soul, the entertaining soaps in the television during the wee hours of the day, the intimate conversations with a forever best friend – mom, till late night, the frequent current-cuts which permit a candle-lit dinner and give a wink of sleep to the television, the adventurous drive through the roads - if any … it goes on.. but life has flown to different heights now!!!
Thought of sharing these happenings 'n sweetest memories in my childhood with u friends.. wrote only little.. will write the remaining later friends..
