Today I woke up hearing the cuckoo's call. It was 7:30 in the morning. It had probably rained the previous night because the weather outside was simply amazing. The sky was a gorgeous light blue with white clouds scattered here and there. The view from my window is of an ocean of trees, like a mini forest with tall, green trees and the window is right next to my bed. The leaves on the trees looked fresh and dewey (if thats a word!). The clouds were glowing because of the early morning sun and i craned my neck to see if I could catch a glimpse of it but unfortunately my side of the room is not East :)
The morning took me to another day, another place...almost like another era...a different time altogether. It reminded me of all those beautiful mornings my mother would forcibly pull me out of the bed and take me for walk-jog routine. The first day was torture...no, actually, every day was torture because even now i hate to get up early in the morning. This morning I realised the importance of those mornings.
Let me describe, as well as i can, the picture that comes to my mind whenever I think about those walks and jogs. I see a small town. The kind of town you would call 'charming'. The kind of town where everyone, just EVERYONE, knows eachother. It has beautiful, cute little cottages with backyards and kitchen gardens, with creepers growing and 'creeping' all over, with bamboo swings, with colourful walls, with small short gates, with low boundary walls so you can just stand there and chit-chat with your neighbour, with three-sided gardens full of different, unusual pretty flowers. The town has nice clean roads flanked with small gardens and narrow roads branching out to various cottages. The kind of town where you see kids of different age groups pedalling away on their cycles, elderly people taking walks while their younger counterparts either walking briskly or jogging. I see myself in that town. I cycle and I jog and I walk. The other two only because my mother forces me to :D but I, basically, love to cycle. I remember walking with my mother by my side and marvelling at the size of the sun. I swear to you, in my memory, it is as big as a huge sunflower held close to your eyes with the sky in the backdrop as compared to the bindi sized sun we usually see (and i mean small bindis ofcourse!). It is red and orange in the picture and sort of emanating cooling, calming rays. The trees around me are bright green and 'dewey' ofcourse. And guess what I hear? The cuckoo calling.
This is what the picture in my mind looks like. This morning took me on a long journey. A journey of the days gone by, a journey down the memory lane, a journey of the time that can never come back, a journey to the past...sighh :)