We, who have completed five decades
of life, have unknowingly built an arcade of playhouse. It has a stairway circling
down to our forgotten past. Availing such stairs, often I reach to the days of
my childhood; as it happened this morning. The world is now seethed into a season of panic
and none knows how long will it continue to reign our mind and dream. In an
elegant morning today, I could see the sparkling red crest of the Gulmohar tree
from my attic: as if whispering something to someone while gently leaning
against an azure sky, swaying her crimson head in wild ecstasy, for reasons
unguessable. In no way, Corona could scare me anymore and I stepped out of home—fearlessly
delightful—wearing mask and holding my favourite camera in hand. A little far
along the path, the placid pool was waiting for me, surrounded by myriad wild
bushes and shrubs. It was an unexpected meet after nearly two and half months.
They enquired, “How are you? Haven’t seen for so long a time, have you
forgotten the path?” What should I say? It filled my heart and face only with a
long smile. Suddenly I noticed some curious movement in the pool. Wow! What’s
it? A whitespot fish; yes, another one following; suspending tail-wagging both
were staring straight at me with all three eyes. After how many years I could
see them; I again raced down through that stairs to my childhood days. I couldn’t
remember even a single day when I couldn’t see them on my way to the school. In
those good old days, they were found to be in large schools almost in every pond
and pool. Around them, water spiders would show amazing skills of skiing with their
wide four legs.
Oh, what’s that? A water snail was coming
nearer floating upon the rippling face of the pool; as if a water-coloured
image turned alive with a magical touch of life gifted. As it came closer, the whitespots
moved little behind to make it pass. They were also watching the snail,
perhaps. The snail got stuck in a wavy branch of hyacinth. Whitespots were
unable to see it anymore for the leaves obstructing the view. They came forward
to peep through the leaves. To view it clearly, I too stooped down and could
see another snail already got tangled there. I guessed if the earlier snail had
sent the message out thorough the gentle breeze and so the later one floated in
through dancing waves. Seeing two snails together, gossiping along those two whtespots
vanished somewhere. Amidst all so dream events confining me to the poolside, I hadn’t
had the tryst with the Gulmohar anymore.
