Time passes

Dear reader,

Time passes, the mango tree flowered and then bore fruits for the first time since it was planted nine years ago, summer wilted, and people left. I traveled to a land of umbrellas to bid farewell. I watched a pond paint the sky dipping a brush into its green inky depths. I will never forget that blue mormon butterfly. I don’t think I am ready to tell you why.

As I sit writing, I can see the sunbirds playing on the Honge tree, or are they gathering food? Do birds ever play? Or do they flit about from branch to branch worrying about worm capture? What do they do in between feeds? What do they do to pass time?

Someone is making a breakfast involving butter. I can smell it spreading on the tawa, quickening to a caramelised brown.

Time passes, summer wilted, and the city switched on its sky fan. I tussle with the clouds. Depending on when they show up and with what force, I drag the clothes rack inside from the terrace. It is all about timing. The score is 2-1.

There is something about Bangalore's breeze that is unlike any other place's. Every time the breeze teases, everyone stops to submit to that caress. I can see a thought bubble pop up - if I could only gather this breeze and put it into a box for those days when not even a veined leaf is inspired to dance.

I sang Malhar in the morning, or should I say, shades of Malhar, as I restored the kitchen from the yestertimes’ disarray. The music felt home, rather, it felt like coming back home after a longue duree.

Longue duree means long duration, but it also stands for studying long term processes. French is a language unbothered with phonetic niceties despite having had years to fix it.

There is a baby out on a walk somewhere outside, insisting loudly that its version is the only truth to be heard. The cat snuggled under the roof eave seems to agree, a bit indulgent. They gave me a look that said they would rather the baby shut up and I leave too so that they can contemplate in feline solitude from their princely perch atop perusing what has always been theirs to rule.

I have a list of chores to do, things to finish, a life that has to be led, with an increasingly fraying leash.

Time passes.