…Reluctant I was, to
wash my deep tresses 
– stained with fragrance
{Jasmines, fragile crusaders of Spring/Summer bloom in the little patch of garden. They nestle in the branches, smirking over the flirtatious bees and lilting breeze, the whole day and wait for the dusk to fall over them. Only to surrender to my mom, to be strung on a thread. In the night, they sleep with me!}

…Jasmines came
intoxicated the air 
– delirious uproar in my little room
{Have you ever felt the head-spinning and senses-dumbfying effort of flowers on you?}

…Gracefully twisted vines
dense clusters of blooms 
– tiny heart-beats laze around!
{Our pet Genie under the fragrant cluster of Jasmines!}

{Captured by Me, that summer, when Vani came to India. When Munny was at the helm of the affairs in the Garden. This summer started on a pleasant note, with mom’s little patch of garden yielding two big Mangoes and three Guavas and a basket full of Jasmines everyday. It’s such a pleasure to watch my ageing parents gloating over that humble yield…..}        

{link:Flowery Trail in Early Winter}

I see self, repeatedly, being drawn to this description of “real texture of life” by Turgenev in his Faust…the Garden comes alive through his string of words…how gently he introduces us to those gorgeous beauties in the garden, which have grown up in a period of time … I always love to read out this piece to the inhabitants of our garden, sitting under the shade of Indian berry tree…they listen to me, but Mom laughs at me “I am mad..”…I know,I am not”…   

the garden has become amazingly pretty; the modest lilac, acacia and honeysuckle bushes (you remember, you and I planted them) have filled out into magnificent dense shrubs; the birches and maples – they’ve all shot up and spread wide; the lime-tree walks have become particularly attractive. I love those walks, I love the delicate grey-green color and the subtle scent of the air beneath their vaults; I love the dappled network of bright little circles across the dark earth – I have no sand, you know. My favorite Oak Sapling has already become a young Oak tree. In the middle of the day yesterday, I sat for more than an hour in its shade on a bench. I felt very happy. All around, the grass was so cheerful and flourishing; a golden light, strong and soft, lay on everything; it even penetrated into the shade….and the birds that could be heard ; I hope you have not forgotten that birds are my passion…Turtle doves cooed incessantly, an oriole would whistle every now and then, a chaffinch played its sweet little trick, the thrushes got angry and twittered away, a cuckoo responded in the distance; suddenly, like a maniac, a woodpecker would utter its piercing cry. I listened, listened to all this soft, collective babbling, and did not want to stir, and it was hard to tell if it was idleness or emotion in my heart…….

It’s such an inexplicable experience to stay closer to ageing parents…at times, I touch by their simplistic view of life, their innocence, and singleminded affection for their child…I try to be more understanding and kind to both of them, which certainly is a well appreciated move on my part, as I never used to be good to my parents when I was young {unlike Vani who has always been the best daughter in the family}