Blog reader Rahul wanted me to post this piece he wrote to the blog. So I didn't refuse. Especially since it is a nice, evocative letter. So here it is.
Come out into the verandah and look below.
What do you see? I see you and me, caught in a time warp some 10 years back, splashing water at each other with our hands and legs. The same water that is below your verandah today. We have bathed in what we consider untouchable today.
I have fond memories of you and I. On my dad's Yezdi, soaking in the rain. One barely legal rider with one pillion clinging on to his back. The rain drops drawing shapes on your slender body!
Soaking in the storm water drains under makeshift bamboo bridges. The startled birds and the angry frogs, despising our intrusion in their monsoon sex lives!
As I sit and watch these myriad reruns of our life in my mind's eye, I think of the little adventures we cherished in the swamps. The water hyacinth islands where we chased the migratory birds. Man's need for growth has lain that place with concrete and tarmac now. But no one can pour cement on my memories.
And you know what? The birds live on. The frogs have found their own new water hole, and they are waiting. For the right season. Expecting us to return just like the migratory birds.
If you ever come by here. I want you to know that I still love you!