A DIFFERENT BEAT

Pic Courtesy: Sukirti Madhav As rains of hope Stream into my life, I look upon the mountains, and see them green. Near, far and scattered there in unending curves,  they spread a mat. I bounce like a ball,  carefree in and out. Swinging from one tree top to another, the monkey in me is uncontrollable. The leaves listen to me and whisper back. I m elated in heavenly euphoria. Why was I late to bask in this chilling warmth, that the mountain mist hugs me with, I know not. It washes away my doubts and aches, and leaves me pure like never before. Green and white in blessed hue fills me from my head to toe. I look above. He smiled and my world had lit up. In this dawn, I feel the bliss as his smile spreads its rays on the mountain's bosom. I realized, I was not alone; Shaded with a veil, Heaven had kissed his earth.

Shriya was very impatient today.She somehow wanted to run into the courtyard and play in the rain.I could not understand what fun she could get out of it.We were already late for Karthi's reception. By the way,where is my husband who always promises to be on time but keeps us waiting for atleast half an hour.Should I phone him? "Ammu, why are you standing outside?" my father-in-law sounded like a typical man of seventy."Raju will be on his way." Parents have a strange way of supporting their children. I was sure that he would be still in the office wondering how to promote the sales and what plans to implement. "Shriya...you are gonna get from me.You'll catch fever,girl...and listen, you gonna spoil your dress." This was usual.My father-in-law telling me something.I scolding Shriya in quick succession. How fast life becomes dull and monotonous. "Ammu,did Jaya call?Will Bhama and Suresh come today evening?"the deep voice of my mother...

The smell of hot Samosas frying in the oil filled her with memories of a land she had long forgotten.The land of dreams,hopes,aspirations,laughter,smiles.Not to forget,the pain,tears,and wound it had left behind.The river in the picture, on the wall suddenly confluenced with the imagery in her mind of the still deep waters of Manimala.The days she had spent on the banks throwing pebbles at hoppers,creating ripples(any bum's delight)gave her an impetus to think further. All memories ushered in fresh thoughts and sour tears.The aroma of the piping hot masala tea filled her thoughts.Slowly,gradually she was sipping hot memories.There stood the small,yet happening place-Kochettan's 'chaya kada'.Home meant memories.Memories meant her village.Village meant Kochettan's 'chaya kada'. Her days started with a distant glance of the 'chayakada' from her room in the upper storey.She would peep out through the curtain at the shack, at the corner of the road.The ...