One Full Orange
The first day of the
ten day festival Onam, finally arrived, kicking to dislodge the sticky remnants
of the previous month, shamelessly hanging on to its feet. The past month was
the stickiest ever. Ammu could hardly hold her head up. The quicksand was fast
engulfing and dragging her down. She waded through it alright, struggling
obediently; giving in to the survival instinct ingrained into her cells to hold
her head up. She finally gave up when the engulfing layers swathed her
mercilessly in a black embrace.
She was now slowly
emerging, dragging her tired feet behind, but determinedly shoving away the
remnants hanging on to her, and trying to pull her back.
Ammu looked around
her. The drumstick tree in the yard had drumsticks hanging from every node in
the branch, but the flowers were infested with a white voracious worm. The
water tap next to it leaked. Has always been leaking, turning the stone on
which it fell, into a velvety green. She would call Manoj and get it repaired,
one day, not yet. A large branch of the Teak had fallen, completely crushing
the weak stem of the temple tree she had cared for. That too needed to be
cleared, but not yet.
Malu the striped cat
has displayed her allegiance to her duty and deposited her priced catch, the
head of a rat, on the entrance mat. That will be removed immediately. Her eyes
seemed to be probing into and grasping only the worst sights.
Ammu sighed and looked
around once more. This time the Laburnum greeted her. It leaned over from
behind her neighbours wall, draped in bright yellow blooms. She looked down and
saw she was standing on a patch of sunlight that hungrily streamed in through
the gap that was left by the broken tree branch. A patch of fresh grass shoots
grew right beside her leg, basking in the sun and eager to participate in the
day.
She decided to follow
the way of the grass. She sat next to it, touched it, and took in the
shimmering green and its readiness.
She went and had a
bath. Today was the first day of the festival of Onam and she had to make small
figurines of Mahathevar for the puja. In the centre of the courtyard she spread
a thin layer of cow dung and left it to dry. In the kitchen she mixed rice
powder with water. It was too watery; so she added a little more rice flour and
mixed it well with her fingers. She then poured the batter with her hands into
a vessel to check its consistency. She could visualize the batter flowing down
the clay model she would soon make. It needed to be a little stickier if it had
to stop flowing midway. Otherwise it would reach the bottom and mess up
the design. She boiled some cleaned ladies finger in a vessel and added this
pasty water into her batter. Perfect. She held the vessel to her nose to smell
it. Odourless. In the courtyard, the dung had dried into a neat smooth dung
green patch. It had no cracks, it had beautifully set, ready to be used.
അഭിപ്രായങ്ങളൊന്നുമില്ല:
ഒരു അഭിപ്രായം പോസ്റ്റ് ചെയ്യൂ