The town mouse and the country mouse

Before we moved into this house, a large one, where we now live, we lived in another city (seems like another time) in an apartment on the sixth floor, overlooking one of the busiest roads, in India. Up to late in the night the sounds that I could hear were all city sounds—cars honking, traffic, construction noises, music blaring, parties, the BPO workers getting dropped and picked up, people taking breaks from work ,televisions blaring, parents yelling at kids, kids retaliating back, garbage trucks arriving, vacuum cleaners whirring and so on. While I lived there, I thought nothing of those sounds. I didn’t even notice them, or think about them as they were so much a part of daily life.

Then we moved to this city (actually a town compared to the earlier place I was staying in) about two years back. The children’s school was on the outskirts (which is just 6 kilometres from the railway station which is in the centre of the city—so you can imagine how small a place this is) and we ended up renting this house, which is on top of a hill, along with a few other houses in a lovely residential complex. We fell in love with it, as soon as we saw it. (The fact that the prices for rentals were so little compared to the earlier place also aided the decision!) The hills surrounding it are a verdant green, and the drive up to our home is so picturesque—and even though I must have done it now more than a 100 times, I still don’t get tired of admiring the picturesque, alluring, almost idyllic surroundings.(On the left is the view from my bedroom window.See that bird? It visits me everyday without fail, entertains me with a song and goes away.I have a bird bath too in my garden)

It is so quiet here, that at night, one truly understands what silence means. Deathly silence punctuated by sounds of insects. Early mornings are a pleasure. The sunrise from my terrace is like a gift from heaven, sent unfailingly each day—just as beautiful, just as enchanting. Some days, the sun peeps out shyly from behind the clouds. Some days the redness and brightness spreads slowly like an absorbent sponge soaking up water. Some days , it seems like the sun is in a hurry to get out and it arrives without any warning as though it has been hurled angrily out of the sky. I have clicked a countless photos of the sun in various moods, from my terrace.

The sounds I hear most now are chirping of the birds. There are so many varieties-- I wish I knew their names.We are fortunate enough to have a lovely garden and a nice covered patio that opens out into the garden.(The picture right on top) When it rains--and it is raining a lot these days-- my favourite activity is to sit in my rocking chair, in my patio, sipping tea, reading the newspaper. Invariably one of the children will come and sit in my lap, and we will gently rock back and forth together, soaking up thoughts, love and many such things.

We have a kitchen garden too. We have grown coriander, spinach, fenugreek leaves and the latest addition is green chillies. My two little chilli pluckers had a wonderful time today. We weighed the harvest. It was 540 grams!(yes that is a picture of the chillies plucked this morning) This is the second time we are plucking them—the last time’s harvest was promptly converted into green chilli pickle. (Made by my mom as she was visiting us then) Today, I made three packets of about 150 grams each and told my children to go and give it to our neighbours—a gift from our garden. They felt proud doing that too. They had been involved with the garden right from the start, and we had dug the soil, prepared the beds, sowed the seeds and watered it and even fed it natural manure like potato and carrot peels from the kitchen. I felt so contented too—it is great to see your efforts bear real fruits. (Pun intended)

Sometimes I miss the city life. Well, not really the city life, but the kind of people one encountered there--a great melting pot of culture, a smorgasbord of opinions, lifestyles and outlook. But the next moment ,my eye is drawn to a flower that has bloomed and that bird that comes every single day, to the tree outside my bedroom window, chirps loudly, and I go back to savouring it slowly.

I don’t know if you have read the story the ‘Town mouse and the country mouse’. I have and I think there is a bit of both in me!