Wednesday, July 18, 2007

The Balcony

The Balcony outside of my grandmother’s room, in Hyderabad, is a Technicolor swatch card with wild bursts of hue that you really have to see to believe. The colors so vibrant in the blistering summer sun: bright, happy and scorching.

All you had to do was step back into the room to escape the summer heat but then, just to reassure ourselves, we’d peek just one more of those ‘last looks’ to see, if all was still as should be.

It is a packed balcony of shocking shades. The red of the chillies, the green of Tulsi, the scraggly rose and the yellow-green of a creeper. The walls are pink; the tile, a mosaic. There is even an orange stool. And all this, in a small balcony of a high rise.

The Balcony wouldn’t be complete without my grandfather always sitting in a corner with his newspaper, under a shade, and my grandmother, reading, writing, sorting through grains or just plain keeping an eye out for the comings and goings of the building people.

As the morning sun hit it, it was warm and promising. In the noon, unforgiving. And in the evening shade, mellow and secretive. It was at that time of the day that the plants were watered..and the smell…oh the smell…you know, that rain smell as water hits the hot soil. That smell was there every evening, wafting into the room and then into the house.. It was summer..

I found pictures of The Balcony on my phone today, forgetting I ever even had them. And in this moment of nostalgia..feeling homesick to the bone.. how I wish for that little piece of summer…







13 comments:

Ricercar said...

beautiful...

bhumika said...

often see a very strong current of nostalgial in your posts...u seem to be a dreamer, just like me :)

byker7 said...

sounds like your grandfather has a balcony i would appreciate.

even without the sweat beading on an ice cold pint, and the smoke of a cigarette meandering lazily through the summer sunshine.

Little Miss Muffet said...

ah memories! one moment they make u smile, the moment they make u cry..

Born a Libran said...

As usual, beautifully written... Very picturesque...

Tachyoson said...

just reading that post , before getting to the photographs , was a wonderfully warm image.

just like a Mark Knopfler song , the bitter-sweet memories of summers bygone , remembered fondly in the days when winter grips most cruelly.

mathew said...

reminds me of my native home...trees..leaves..crafted wood..smell of spices..it was so "earthy" those times..

Dan said...

This is a beautifully written post. I was there, on the balcony.

Thanks for visiting my blog while I was away. That was very sweet. I'm back and making the rounds catching up!

Renovatio said...

Everything has a story

Melody said...

You tell good stories girl!! Love nostalgic post, especially visually rich ones like these! Good going!

Ekta said...

awww:-)
well home always makes one nostalgic...!

Millissa said...

Hi A I haven't visited your blog in a while Just wanted to say Hi! xoxo

P.S. I always long for India

Perspective Inc said...

@ ricercar
:)

@ bhumika
i seem to be.

@ byker7
you probably would.

@ LMM
thats the thing with them...

@ born a libran
thanks!

@ tachyoson
Love that line! And, thanks!

@ mathew
:)

@ dan
welcome back!

@ renovatio
It does. And how!

@ Melody
Thanks woman!

@ ekta
:)

@ Milissa
Hi!