Amateur scribbles

The campus look clean, wet from last nights shower. The road looks fresh, amidst the stretch of trees. In a dazzling hue, The trees are blossomed. The veggies beside the road, Are ripe and near to harvest. The litchis in the orchard, red as beetroot in backyard. Here is the harvest time,  they are so ripe and prime. Pluck few and peel few, Sun is hot and my caps askew.  Onto the ladder we climb, Its spring and harvest time.  Mangoes are getting yellower, Compared to litchi its slower. The big fat chinwan, the red skined irwin. In few days or sooner, They will ready for my dinner .

I was travelling in a city bus. It was cramped with passengers but I was lucky enough to have got a seat. Sitting next to me was an elderly man dressed up shabbily. His hair was partly grey and his teeth were rusty -stained indicating his addiction to doma and tobacco. He blew his nose quite often and coughed a lot.  I assume he made everyone in the bus quite uneasy. Few school goers even whispered lewd remarks in English amongst themselves. However, his presence did not bother me at all. In fact I broke the ice and tried to start conversation with him. I asked about his whereabouts, his health and I even advised him some home remedies to curb his cough. He was glad to get into talk with me and our conversation ensued for the rest of the journey. From the starting of the journey there was a minor ruckus in the bus and passengers complaining about a foul smell inside the bus. Even I did smell the reek which was somewhat like that of a stool.  Later as the bus moved the smell got i

Hiding amongst the grasses, concealed in camouflage. its leaves green and minute, its stem hidden beneath the weeds. Amongst the grasses lush, She do not want to get touched. Even a slight brush of touch, She close her leaves to hide. She is soft and she is shy, she is elegant and she is adorable. When she says touch me not,  she means what she said. Amongst the lushes, she wants us to leave her alone. Beauty in her eyes, Strength in her body. Hidden beneath her beauty, A lethal thorns for defense. When she says touch me not,  she means what she says.

Since childhood days i loved working with plants. During weekends, i would help my dad in potting of flowers, transplanting , manuring etc. Watering was part of my daily chores. My dad  is also a genuine plant lover. He would bring lots of flowers from different places and together we would plant those in empty oil cans and boxes. Those days  flower pots were not that common. My dads enthusiasm with flowers passed down in me almost naturally. Especially i would be fascinated to see different types of flowers, with dazzling petals and leaves. Some times we would go to the border town jaigon to buy flowers and fruits. The border town would always have so many flowers to keep me dazed all the while. There would be yellow roses,white bougainvilleas, short fruits plants with voracious fruits which i did not know it was bonsai that time.  I was really fascinated one day , when my dad brought a small potted orange with lots or fruits on it. That was in fact first inception of a bonsai pic

My days this days remind me of those beautiful anecdotes by ruskin bond elsewhere in shimla. The weather is very erratic like itself. It's a sunny morning and wet afternoon or vice versa . Sometime the rains are light and pleasant whereas sometime it's wreaks havoc as if whole the hell broke loose. Rain or shine I see those life going undistracted. Those cows tethered on the arecanut trunk, munching lushes under the bursting sky. In the nearby sty in the village, the pigs are silent and asleep. The chickens in the coop too. The roads are weted afresh. Countless cars ply with wippers in full swing. From the school in the vicinity, kids are outbound for home. Little girls playfully walking the roads, tossing their umbrella and  barely caring to protect themselves from the rain.Now and then they dip their legs in the puddles formed by the rain. Little do they know that their parents are worried about them. I assume they will have to face the wrath after reaching home. Th

First a hazy blanket of clouds, Swirl and twirl as it spreads. Sparks slice the sky, Those flashes so nigh. Sound of the thunder, Resonates high amongst the beans yonder. Leaves of the slender nuts, Twerk in a frightful delight. THe rain drops heavy, Big as size of marbles. Pouring on the roof, Like a stampede of hooves. From amidst the lushes, Workers outbound and rushes. Against the wall of gate, Beneath cover of any. Try and squeeze to hide , While the storm still glide.

First a hazy blanket of clouds, Swirl and twirl as it spreads. Sparks slice the sky, Those flashes so nigh. Sound of the thunder, Resonates high amonst the beans yonder. Leaves of the slender arecanut, Twerk in a frightful delight. THe rain drops heavy, Big as size of marbles. Pouring on the roof, Like a stampede of hooves. From amidst the lushes, Workers outbound and rushes. Against the wall of gate, Beneath any under cover. Try and squeeze to hide , While the storm still glide.

Rain in the summer, Wet the corns afresh. Amidst the lushes corn, Stretches a trodden path. In the centre of the farm, With beans and veggies around. My house like a castle, Amidst the clouds of lushes. Sparks and thunder afar, Out of blue the rain drops heavy. Onto the roof of my house, Like a tramp of hooves, Thousand horse are galloped. Fans are  circling on the ceiling, Lizards crawling on  the walls. Inside the blanket here, I am awaken thinking deep.