Yes, I can smell it – in the lemony fragrance of the morning air – in the jingle of the lazing wind that is playing with the curtains, in the silk-like softness of the sun that is dozing on my carpet as my curtains play with the wind and the sun – spring has arrived!
(greeting the sun)
I have taken a day off today and it’s already afternoon – quiet and unhurried, and I am hearing inside me and everywhere near and far, the restless song of the warm, lazy, sun-drenched winds of the afternoon. I know them so well. I have known them since my childhood – since those days when we two sisters used to run breathlessly after the wind-swept flowers of bougainvillea that would go rolling, whirling, dancing in the sun in clusters so colourful at my grandma’s house – all that is now but a memory.
Lying on my little cot on my terrace where tender violet flowers are smiling on bean-stalks, I can see a radiant sun-mist in the air, and languorous eagles basking in the sun high above, I can hear the coin-like clatter of crisp, brown leaves flying, spinning, whirling down lazily from the trees, till they are again air-lifted by strong gusts of the wind. Everything, every sound, has drowned in the sound of the afternoon sun. It is the same sound that I heard in the morning inside the veins of the leafless twigs of the silent lemon tree that would soon burst into flowers and fruits – it was the sound of the sun rushing deep inside. Tiny wings of radiant leaves would soon flutter on its leafless twigs and birds would come to weave their little nests again. There’s always a pain, a catch in my breath, something aches inside, when I hear the long passionate soulful ala`ps that spring has been singing since ages unknown. They were still the same years back, when we used to watch the wild Siberian doves cry and swim and prattle as the wind ran across the river – rippling, giggling, glittering.
(Bathing in the sun-shower)
And now, some more news about the spring gypsies:
Not only the noon, the night sky has tales of spring to tell as well – after long weeks of fog and mist, it is clear again – starry, soothing, and fragrant with tender Raat ki Raanis. I got up last night to find a waxing moon climb the budding creeper on my balcony and tiptoe to my window to say good night. Incidentally, I woke up today before the first calls of the little robins, just a little before the daybreak, and saw the morning star sparkling like a gem in the clear air of the spring morning.
So, finally, here is one pic of my diwan on which first rays of the sun love to have their first morning tea – yes, my house is dressing up to greet the gypsy caravans of the spring.
(Guldaories in my garden in the early hours of the morning)
Note: All pics on this blog post were taken today, early in the morning. Wait for my next caravansary post on this season of colours and hope. This post is a part of my season diaries. I hope you had a nice spring siesta here at my caravansary where spring is camping. Do let me know and feel free to drop in your comments, suggestions and opinions. This post would be incomplete without them.