A Season For The Soul - Spring In The Heart!

 

In the Spring, I have counted 136 different kinds of weather inside of 24 hours. - Mark Twain.

Ironically, the memories associated with Spring are more of the times that I spent studying with my friend Chitra. 

My house had a large verandah, being at one corner of the building. That is where I and my friend studied during our board exams.

She would come to my house quite early in the morning. Even before she arrived, I would be out at the verandah with a book in my hand. We both would mutter a grumpy 'Good morning' to each other and would promptly get lost in our books. 

"I can smell vacation in the air." I would tell her. There was a marked difference in the morning when Spring made its presence felt. The day would seem brighter, the birds more active than ever and there would be an aura of happiness around, as if Nature herself was celebrating a new season. We would smile goofily at each other. She would say. "When you utter such sentences, I feel that you would become a writer." I would preen happily, for secretly I did want to be a writer. 

I would say we both enjoyed that spring the most even though it went by in studying. And we did study a lot. From 5 in the morning, we would read till 9. Then she would go to her home while I had my bath and breakfast. She would join me after breakfast and we both would study there till noon. Then a lunch-break, then again some studying and finally at 5, we would call it a day as far as studies were concerned. My verandah turned into our own personal haven during this beautiful season. There was no room for any regret as we were outdoors, enjoying Nature in all her beauty and glory. 

The verandah was separated from a neighbor’s bungalow by just a cement wall. The bungalow had an orchard of trees, which meant a lot of birds came there. Spring was party-time for the birds. By the end of March, and a week into April, the Koyal would start singing. Everyone who has heard the koyal's call knows that it is simply delightful. And yet I and my friend felt sorry for her, for sometimes, we could hear a tiredness in her voice. There was always one insensitive person somewhere who would mock the bird by responding to her call and stir her up. I still feel that's inhumane!

The highlight of our time in the verandah was a beautiful yet elusive bird which had the voice of an angel and sang such a melodious tune that we would simply pause and just gaze at the direction from where the tune came. The song lasted for about 5 to 6 seconds but those precious seconds were invaluable in the beauty and solace that they brought. The bird repeated this song many times. I still don't know the name of this bird. I did see it, years later, after the tryst with schools and colleges ended and I had started working. The bird graced me with its sight and song several times thereafter. I was happiest when years later, I was baby-sitting for Chitra’s kid, aged five then, and I heard the song of the bird. The kid must have thought that I am crazy when she saw me almost dance in happiness and shout out - 'Hey, I and your mom absolutely love this bird!' I don't know whether it was the same bird, but sharing the song with my friend's kid seemed like something that was intended by the Universe. 

Another place where we enjoyed spring to the best was the terrace of our building. After finishing off the studies for the day, I and my friend, joined by other friends, would head over to our terrace. We were now 'too grown-up' to play games. And the dread of upcoming board exams loomed large on our minds. At such times, the gentle breeze of the evening, the sky splashed with brilliant colors of a magnificent sunset and being together with friends, made us feel that we could handle any problem. Some days we would enjoy the evening in silence. Somedays there would be discussions and debates. But mostly, each and every one basked in the presence of friends on a beautiful spring-y evening.

Nights have never been welcome to me. I still don't know why. So it was mandatory to close the windows of the room of my house every night. The room looked out into the said verandah. But come spring, even the nights felt welcome. Dad would throw open the windows at night. There were some flowers that bloomed only at night. The perfume of those flowers, mixed with the intoxicating smell that some nights bring, lulled me into a sweet sleep. Sometimes I would wake up in the middle of the night and watch the trees beside the bungalow sway gently in the breeze. Those nights were simply priceless. 

Coincidentally, it was a spring-y day when I last saw the verandah of my home. By that time, I was married and had a kid. I was about to shift to Hyderabad. I was staying with my parents for few days. I remember looking at the verandah and feeling deeply emotional, thinking when I would get to see it again. I didn't get to see it. My parents sold the house while I was in Hyderabad and shifted to Kerala. It is still a deeply felt regret, having not been able to see the home where I spent almost three decades of my life.

There are many memories associated with spring. For some reason, the times spent with friends come prominently to my mind. The friends are scattered now everywhere across the country. But I take solace in the memories that we all made. 

Of beautiful and bright days at a large verandah.

With songs of Koyals and beautiful-but-unnamed birds.

Of beautiful evenings at the terrace witnessing a majestic sunset.

Of breezy nights that made me feel safe and cozy!