It rains as if never
going to rain
A trial of the northeast
monsoon
Draw trail as if clearing
the way
For heavy rain to run
down the drain.
The day was brighter and sunny
To ever think of raining
Until silvery clouds float in
To become gloomy and rain.
The pitter-patter of rain
Continue its rhyme, wordlessly
like a kindergarten kid, I
rejoiced singing along the rain.
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The beautiful sunny day in the morning contrary to rain in the evening. |
Linking this post with Skywatch Friday
There were
the days, during the elections, or kind of emergencies, people speak through the
megaphone to draw attention or warn people of the upcoming danger. Sometimes they speak live on the mike, other
than playing the recorded voice of the announcement while coming around the
streets in the autorickshaw to let people know. The same applied to the
announcement of polio drops, every year, had now become a common use by hawkers
in selling their items instead of shouting out the throat.
To my memory,
I first heard the recorded voice (used by street vendors) was the silk lace
buyers in bikes, in urging tone buying old silk lace of any kind at a reasonable
price. And regardless of Sundays, they used to wander our street playing the
recorded voice as disturbing the leftover peace, and many a time they stop near
our home and playback the audio aloud. Following
their footsteps, I heard the same in different words from the sellers of
Idiyappam – a rice noodle dish from south India, Kolamavu (chalk or rock powder
used for drawing Kolam, a design drawn in front of the houses as an invite to
home), Knief grinders; and many others on the track.
During the
lockdown days, some vendors came on the street selling veggies in mini-trucks,
as coming out of the home has been restricted, these vehicles pull
off the doorstep and their playback is something constant and without a break
is a headache. Glad they aren’t often these days after the announcement of
relaxation; though I care for their livelihood, the noise they create was a nuisance. Today I found an interesting thing happening right
outside the home, where a north Indian hawker, with a bike, loaded with door and
floor mats were adjusting his megaphone. And I just watched what
he was doing as he handed over the megaphone to a vegetable vendor, who parked on
his side speaks over it like one mat 20 rupees, two mats 50 rupees’ in his
familiar tone of selling vegetables in Tamil.
It’s apparent that he doesn’t know Tamil and though he may understand, his trouble with colloquial forced to use him on his behalf. He playback the megaphone as the vegetable vendor moves a little, turned back to respond with a smile. I moved the way hawkers helping each other even if it was a little bit of this. I think about the many vendors who ventured into the south Indian states (or any other state with different languages) to speak or understand, this kind of help from the fellow vendors will improve their business, and hope to survive out of their town. And this is what inspired me to write the post – my experience with megaphones.
Saturdays and squirrels always sync with me and I have mentioned it a few times in this blog itself and this unity works out from childhood to till date when I spot a couple of little squirrels chasing one another like kids try to defeat either in a running race or like players running endlessly on the ancient walls in Temple Run, on the extended arm of the rain tree, the guys hurried down to disappear in seconds. They look perhaps siblings who chase another for silly things as kids do and there’s no wonder as they are younger to be in a playful mood.
I have always seen the little squirrels running around the Rain and Indian tulip tree opposite our house but not sure which one of the two. Another day I saw a little one eating the pods of the tulip tree while dangling on the edge of branches. Squirrels are everywhere and only we have to look out if want something fun with nature and squirrels is great entertainers and I enjoyed them more when I was close to the ground before moved to the first floor of our house. The houses we moved in the past had squirrels wander through the yards and I’m enthused to shoot squirrels in my camera and I have also seen the worst of a black cat killing a Lil squirrel while I was capturing it.
The Indian palm squirrel you see in photos was way a few weeks back and was nibbling on the leftover rice on the wall beneath the tulip tree. The squirrel was quite alert while eating the leftover making quick trips up and down the tree when it feels fear and I got these cute close-up shots from the maximum zoom of my Canon point and shoot cam. Hope you like the little acts of the squirrel. Have a nice weekend.
Linking this post with SATURDAY CRITTERS
How long should I pretend to be happy?
To smile, while I actually couldn’t
Just like the smiley yellow ball - stress reliever
I was squeezed to smile.
While I pass through various emotions
The heart hurts the most, to break up
Despite creamy layers of joy or love try to forget
The scars remind me of the same.
And I tried to keep emotions at bay
But like a gale, I was pushed ashore
To pause and pursuit the same
To, lash repeatedly into the shore.
In the silence of the afternoon
a squirrel screeched from the bushes
neither signaling its mate nor scared of prey
went silent later, as if it ended either way.
Rolling of the brass cuboid dice
the metal sounds from another side
slide me down the memory lane, like fall colors
memories of a cheerful period fall back.
A flock of birds in the background babble
indicates the return of the yellow-billed babblers
the crazy noisy guys, who always hangout to ground
kept me from joining, as I lifted to the first floor.
A sound of the saw at a distance
came distracting me as rooster began its crow
the day reached its edge and a sip of tea
lighter the evening, as the sun, drops its glow.
