The wintry morning smelled of new blossoms. The air grew moist but touched the skin gently. The blue radiant sky with thousands of birds all over went on to make a picture so perfect that one could paint a memory worth millions of years. Such was that day when that very moment left us with new whiff of air. A new thought, a new idea, a new leaf , a new cream that surrounds the milk, and all things were new. The sunlight beamed and gleamed and the shadow of divine light entered the drawing room filtering the shades that were drawn. The light was new. I heard that rains were lashing the city of Chennai and I could hear the sounds of water lapping in Mumbai. The sound of rain was new. The birds in front of my balcony huddled and rested in the thick nest that they made yesterday. They were all of four and together their happiness saw no bounds. The nest was new. The sprawling green lawns enveloped the vibrant flowers. The hues of green were new. I took in the freshness of air that filled my senses and went in to develop a march of energy. The energy was new. The pavements were grey but the greenery never stopped to bring a new life. The life was new. The milk was boiled and I made a quick cup of coffee. The scent of coffee wafted in the air and entered the nostrils. The coffee scent was new. He came and today our togetherness spoke many volumes. The affection was new. Suddenly I was new. I breathed newness and the lips touched the corner of my eyes. My smile was new.
“I wanted to tell Mama that it did feel different to be back, that our living room had too much empty space, too much wasted marble floor that gleamed from Sisi’s polishing and housed nothing. Our celing was too high. Our furniture was lifeless: the glass tables did not shed twisted skin in the harmattan, the leather sofas’ greeting was a clammy coldness, and the Persian rugs were too lush to have any feeling. But I said, “You polished the etagere.” " The above text appears when Jaja and Kambili return from Nsukku, their Aunty Ifeoma’s house, and witness their place as dull and lacking warmth even though the house glistened like a palace. The warmth that Aunty Ifeoma’s house had carried during the days they spent despite having a nondescript house and where they prayed every day for Peace and Laughter. Laughter among all the things. Because Laughter was valued in their house everyday despite living with shortcomings something that Kambili hardly got to experience in own h
Beautiful narration :)
ReplyDeleteThanks a lot sweety
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