I close my eyes. I open a rickety green door. I step into the shade in front. The morning Sun’s bright and warm. The smell of Summer promises two more months of Joy. The Paarijatha tree’s still in spring mode with a few reluctant leaves here and there.
Sparrows chirp around the bird-holes on the neighbor’s wall with the lone Mynahs’ hole joining in the melee. The rice on the distant wall attracts Crows, while shrieking squirrels, tails wagging, await their turn. The Sampangi tree in the corner spreads its shade all over the compound, across the road and upon the neighbour’s courtyard. Its massive canopy brimming with life – sparrows, crows, mynahs and squirrels.
“Come fast” calls my brother, taking position at the gate, in the shade of the Sampangi tree, rubber ball in hand. I walk along, cocky, bat in hand to take stance under the Paarijatham.
I close my eyes.
All I want is to open them to Summer mornings.