Scribble from my journal - 8

warm and wet memory lanes call out and i remember........


i remember how the water tasted cool and fresh, it was like dipping in the ganges on that hot and humid day in april, when the priests chanted mantras on marble steps, the fire smoking gently over their faces and crackling heat came in waves towards those around, the gods and goddesses walked out of their stone bodies and whispered love in my ears, i felt grace pouring over me like saffron honey........

i remember when it rained seven days in a row, day and night, without stopping, a deluge, it felt as though the sky would never close up and the sun would never shine again, as if the whole earth would be swallowed up in thick moist curtains, the raincoats in red pink blues, the umbrellas that flew away with the wind, endless cups of ginger chai under orange blankets from rajasthan, oh the warm wetness of it all i loved, the monsoons in india......

i remember when spirit danced through my heart and nani, my grandmother, made amrit, the nectar of the gods for me, mixing almond milk and water, stirring golden pieces of jaggery, a few mint leaves, draining the glass to the last drop in her cosy soft arms, blissfilled, one with krishna........

i remember feeling sticky and lazy under the sun, steaming in the afternoon heat, how we perspired and burned, longing for the coolness of the sea breeze and how still it was, not a leaf moved, stretching out on white cotton sheets, drinking glass after glass of rose and lemon water, stroking our faces with ice cubes and our bodies with dreams of places covered in snow.........