The view from my window

I woke to warm fingers caressing my face. Someone had opened the blinds and let the early morning rays peek in and onto my face.

The morning, as seen through my bedroom window, was a resplendent medley of colours.The huge Jacaranda tree was abuzz with life. Every branch seemed to be flaunting its profusion of lilac & violet flowers. A cool gentle breeze gently cajoled a few flowers to float down from their high perches. A natural carpet was slowly being woven on the ground below.MAARIE, the milkman was returning home with his bevy of bovine beauties.

Every day, at dawn, Maarie arrives with his herd in tow and milks his cows as his 'clients' - the neighbourhood restaurateurs & chai shop walahs, watch on. “It’s for the benefit of all those new generation non-believers who think I give them diluted milk”, he says in disgust. Maarie belongs to an indeterminate time in history and no one really knew how old he was.

Grandpa has already started his morning round of poojas. He has his private conversations with Aditya, the sun god, every day.I am so glad spring’s here and I am even more pleased that I woke up in time to watch the world in celebration.