Day 25 NaPoWriMo-2020
Prompt: "Hymn of Life" by James Schuyler.
before the rains
A cool, soothing breeze erupts out of nowhere and caresses my skin.
The skin feels the pleasure of being alive.
The coolness in the air soothes a few frayed nerves too.
Not only mine but also of the people around me.
That includes my pets too. The temperature has been dangling between 36degrees Celcius to38 degrees Celcius
from 9am to 4pm every day for the last two weeks.
There is too much humidity in the air and the clouds are trying hard to hold on to the cottony babies which are eager to puddle along with the earth.
A dark sky does announce that there is going to be a shower.
It is the last week of April and the monsoon is very far away.
I have been reflecting on all days and worrying about tomorrow.
In an isolated cell, many questions do arise, "Where are we heading?'.
A sharp cry of restlessness pricks.
Running feet of bloodlines do their best to lay the beasts to rest.
Every evening the burning earth waits for the breeze of the bay to blow and cool its skin. There is a flurry of activity as the temperature falls. The birds chirp in their best voices while flying to their nests in a straight line. A few naughty ones perch on the trees, which are not home.
A profusion of colors touches the eyes.
In the distant sky, a dance of reds, pinks, whites, oranges, and many shades of magentas meets the eye. The softest and sweetest sound I hear every day is of the koel. The view of the glowing sky in the bridal attire brings hope that tomorrow is going to be another day full of promises
The sunset makes a promise that I am going to be alive to enjoy it the next day.
The layers of clouds are lighted up and filled with magic. Those few hours in the company of beautiful flowers, chirping birds makes it easier to deal with this isolation.
Last year, it was nearly impossible to vouch out of the house. The blazing sun was in full glory. covering the face with a scarf was a must. Work needs loyalty and punctuality.
This year the tables have changed. Life has come to a standstill. Imprisoned within the four walls, being scared to death by a tiny creature, has become a way of life.
I notice people taking a breather.
From my balcony, a grilled view, some ladies sitting outside in the bylanes chatting feverishly as if tomorrow is a distant dream.
A few men in their vests strolling on the terraces. There are those teenagers on another terrace busy with their cellphones. What are they chatting about? Maybe they are missing their girlfriends and boyfriends or the time spent in the company of friends. Maybe...
The happiest moment is seeing the little kids out on the streets and lanes, playing, laughing, and smelling of life. Staying within the walls of the house the whole day must be a real punishment.
The evenings are lifesavers. The cool weather, happy faces and the evening glory of the sunset sets the mood.
My heart moves in a slow-motion and takes me to another shore.
I remember how it was in Goa,
during this time of the year in the carefree days. Nostalgia reaches another stage when I recall the beautiful bounty of nature during spring. The kids in the village would gather around the mango trees to pick up the ripe mangoes. The phase between the end of springs and the advent of summers is the best time as vacations are around the corner. As soon as the exams were over the little feet were ready to conquer the world and wait to get into a new class. .
Meanwhile, it was time to enjoy vacations in the company of friends and family. There was such happiness around in those little moments. A small village endowed with lots of beauty as if nature has been kind and the soil generous too. A river on one edge and the hills on the other end.
The village resembles a paradise with its abundant flora and fauna. The evenings mesmerized the senses with the fragrance of frangipani and jasmines. A tiny piece of bliss tucked in some corner, far away from the bustling cities. Life hangs on simple living.No high buildings can survive in its lap.
Small houses with equally lovely gardens soothe the soul. Splashes of Bougainvilla and hibiscus overtakes the walls. A few rose bushes peeping in the doorways. The fire of fire flowers adorning the hair of the village bellies. The village smells of ripened fruits. Ripe bananas, mangoes, luscious papayas, and a garden full of guava trees.
Oh! There are a variety of berries too. Blueberries, blackberries, and of course gooseberries and wild berries. Memories do have a life of their own. There is the fabric of sorrow and pain and a few threads of happiness woven in their layers. I remember to wrap them in my heart.
Every day comes with a belief that nothing is lost. Every breath we take has a timed phase.
Yes, life is taking a leap in these times of crisis.
And, as I finish writing this,
It rains!
and now
Participating in: http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-five-6/
Prompt: "Hymn of Life" by James Schuyler.
A cool, soothing breeze erupts out of nowhere and caresses my skin.
The skin feels the pleasure of being alive.
The coolness in the air soothes a few frayed nerves too.
Not only mine but also of the people around me.
That includes my pets too. The temperature has been dangling between 36degrees Celcius to38 degrees Celcius
from 9am to 4pm every day for the last two weeks.
There is too much humidity in the air and the clouds are trying hard to hold on to the cottony babies which are eager to puddle along with the earth.
A dark sky does announce that there is going to be a shower.
It is the last week of April and the monsoon is very far away.
I have been reflecting on all days and worrying about tomorrow.
In an isolated cell, many questions do arise, "Where are we heading?'.
A sharp cry of restlessness pricks.
Running feet of bloodlines do their best to lay the beasts to rest.
Every evening the burning earth waits for the breeze of the bay to blow and cool its skin. There is a flurry of activity as the temperature falls. The birds chirp in their best voices while flying to their nests in a straight line. A few naughty ones perch on the trees, which are not home.
A profusion of colors touches the eyes.
In the distant sky, a dance of reds, pinks, whites, oranges, and many shades of magentas meets the eye. The softest and sweetest sound I hear every day is of the koel. The view of the glowing sky in the bridal attire brings hope that tomorrow is going to be another day full of promises
The sunset makes a promise that I am going to be alive to enjoy it the next day.
The layers of clouds are lighted up and filled with magic. Those few hours in the company of beautiful flowers, chirping birds makes it easier to deal with this isolation.
Last year, it was nearly impossible to vouch out of the house. The blazing sun was in full glory. covering the face with a scarf was a must. Work needs loyalty and punctuality.
This year the tables have changed. Life has come to a standstill. Imprisoned within the four walls, being scared to death by a tiny creature, has become a way of life.
I notice people taking a breather.
From my balcony, a grilled view, some ladies sitting outside in the bylanes chatting feverishly as if tomorrow is a distant dream.
A few men in their vests strolling on the terraces. There are those teenagers on another terrace busy with their cellphones. What are they chatting about? Maybe they are missing their girlfriends and boyfriends or the time spent in the company of friends. Maybe...
The happiest moment is seeing the little kids out on the streets and lanes, playing, laughing, and smelling of life. Staying within the walls of the house the whole day must be a real punishment.
The evenings are lifesavers. The cool weather, happy faces and the evening glory of the sunset sets the mood.
My heart moves in a slow-motion and takes me to another shore.
I remember how it was in Goa,
during this time of the year in the carefree days. Nostalgia reaches another stage when I recall the beautiful bounty of nature during spring. The kids in the village would gather around the mango trees to pick up the ripe mangoes. The phase between the end of springs and the advent of summers is the best time as vacations are around the corner. As soon as the exams were over the little feet were ready to conquer the world and wait to get into a new class. .
Meanwhile, it was time to enjoy vacations in the company of friends and family. There was such happiness around in those little moments. A small village endowed with lots of beauty as if nature has been kind and the soil generous too. A river on one edge and the hills on the other end.
The village resembles a paradise with its abundant flora and fauna. The evenings mesmerized the senses with the fragrance of frangipani and jasmines. A tiny piece of bliss tucked in some corner, far away from the bustling cities. Life hangs on simple living.No high buildings can survive in its lap.
Small houses with equally lovely gardens soothe the soul. Splashes of Bougainvilla and hibiscus overtakes the walls. A few rose bushes peeping in the doorways. The fire of fire flowers adorning the hair of the village bellies. The village smells of ripened fruits. Ripe bananas, mangoes, luscious papayas, and a garden full of guava trees.
Oh! There are a variety of berries too. Blueberries, blackberries, and of course gooseberries and wild berries. Memories do have a life of their own. There is the fabric of sorrow and pain and a few threads of happiness woven in their layers. I remember to wrap them in my heart.
Every day comes with a belief that nothing is lost. Every breath we take has a timed phase.
Yes, life is taking a leap in these times of crisis.
And, as I finish writing this,
It rains!
Participating in: http://www.napowrimo.net/day-twenty-five-6/
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