Living alone

I lived in a large bungalow alone. It stood in the middle of an unkempt overgrown garden. On one side mango trees formed a jungle. It was dark there. The small cozy room I occupied opened to a narrow stretch of covered veranda at the back of the bungalow. The veranda was covered by wire netting giving a clear view of the unkempt lawn overgrown with grass and occasional shrubs. I liked this chaotic unkempt look. It was nature left to itself.

On Sundays I took rest. After finishing morning chores, my small luxury was to sit on a chair in the veranda. Common birds hopped, flitted, flew across my garden in search of their food. Undisturbed. Quietly sipping tea I enjoyed their quests.

Weekdays I worked from 10 to 8 in the evening. Office was within walking distance, but still I had to use my car. Evenings when I returned home, my bungalow silently waited for me. I used the backdoor entry through the veranda. During summer as soon as I reached my door intense sweet smell greeted me. The two large shrubs of hasnuhana (jasmine) hung heavy with white flowers and the air around thick with the enchanting smell. The smell wrenched long-forgotten memories from deep down my heart. Slowly I opened the door, stepped in and switched on the light. None waited for me.

First showers started soon enough. I felt comfortable with the showers as they came usually during the night. Some nights I woke up, went out and stood on the veranda watching the rain drops falling straight down the sky in a white sheet. The rain sheets enveloped me in a protective cover.

One night I woke up with a start. The noise was deafening. As if a herd of wild horses were running across my roof. An especially heavy downpour. I couldn’t sleep. Where are the horses heading to? I wondered.

I didn’t know when I fell asleep.

Next morning I woke up on a sunny bright morning freshly washed by the night rains. My friends the birds were especially active as the worms were abundant after the rains. It was a Sunday. Lying face down on my bed I watched my garden through the open door. A shaft of morning sunlight entered my room and lay gingerly on the floor.