SPRING TALES
On a lighter vein this morning I quoted the oft quoted line “If winter comes can spring be far behind?” I was replying to an email wherein my friend wrote that winter had crept in early this year into England. Mail sent but my thoughts are still with the line. It denotes hope, prescribes patience and of course brings in a visual treat of seasons changing.
Come spring every year caravans would move in by the river side. The cow bells rang to the lazy strides of the buffalos. It would be a long chain and out poured from them men and women most gaily clad I would say. As a child I marveled at the colors of their long flowing skirts and beaded jewellery. The men wore colorful turbans and soon got busy putting up tents. Women would light a fire and give the animals and children to eat.
Spring was here! The news of the wanderers arriving spread through the air with the first scent of the blossoms. Villagers from near and far would all head for our riverside. Children like butterflies would just skip from one tent to the other staring at the wares on sale. Beads, wooden toys, honey even birds were on display. My favorite tent was the one selling candies. Red, orange, pink, yellow sugar candies on wooden sticks. Yes like lollipops but these were flattened and a little jagged at the edges. One could almost last half a day!
The quietness and the emptiness of the riverside was forgotten in these days. It woke up even before dawn. Sunlight brought in people and more people all eager to walk through the tents and strike a good bargain. Children crying, laughing and cheering as they saw with wonder fire tricks and rope walks. Snake charmers, face readers, gypsy doctors mesmerised us all. At night their music came wafting in with the cool air from the river. From our terrace we could see the leaping flames of the fire they lit. The drum beats and haunting voices still remain with me decades later.
Like all good things and spring they moved on. One fine day it was time for pack up. Tents would get dismantled. The left over wares packed, their children scooped up and put back into the caravans. Again the chime of cowbells and soon it faded into the distance. The cloud of dust too would settle down and soon the riverside became calm and empty once again. Some colorful papers kept fluttering in the air. Some burnt twigs and ashes lie in heaps here and there. All a reminder of the spring gone by.
Early September 2006
A t-shirt here, a hanky there, some papers tucked away under the pillow, it was quite an exercise collecting all the items. Then I strolled to the other room it was her comb, a tiny hair clip, a little charm that had slipped off her bangle, I collect them all. Yes this is all that remains after the great summer fair that we had in our house! My children had comedown to spend the summer with us.
Like the gypsies they just moved in with their bags. Laughter, music, shrill cries filled the otherwise quiet house. They turned everything possible upside down. “We are on a holiday” was their excuse and even though I tried to act stern loved seeing the house bear this “wild” look. Movies, eating out, cooking on the terrace we did it all. Rap music of my son and sweet melodies of my daughter formed a perfect fusion called “noisy music”! It is heady and addictive. Friends and relatives came by and even joined the cricket match on the terrace. The house was echoing with life. I could feel the spring in my steps.
It was time one day for my gypsies to go back, leaving behind a trail of left overs and sweet memories. My eyes fell on the battered magazine, torn cover and dog-eared pages spoke about the storm it must have braved. Just a few days ago they were fighting over it like two bulls! Every thing around was not in place but they all looked awashed with a glow of spring.
Spring just went by. It can’t be too long before it returns.
Come spring every year caravans would move in by the river side. The cow bells rang to the lazy strides of the buffalos. It would be a long chain and out poured from them men and women most gaily clad I would say. As a child I marveled at the colors of their long flowing skirts and beaded jewellery. The men wore colorful turbans and soon got busy putting up tents. Women would light a fire and give the animals and children to eat.
Spring was here! The news of the wanderers arriving spread through the air with the first scent of the blossoms. Villagers from near and far would all head for our riverside. Children like butterflies would just skip from one tent to the other staring at the wares on sale. Beads, wooden toys, honey even birds were on display. My favorite tent was the one selling candies. Red, orange, pink, yellow sugar candies on wooden sticks. Yes like lollipops but these were flattened and a little jagged at the edges. One could almost last half a day!
The quietness and the emptiness of the riverside was forgotten in these days. It woke up even before dawn. Sunlight brought in people and more people all eager to walk through the tents and strike a good bargain. Children crying, laughing and cheering as they saw with wonder fire tricks and rope walks. Snake charmers, face readers, gypsy doctors mesmerised us all. At night their music came wafting in with the cool air from the river. From our terrace we could see the leaping flames of the fire they lit. The drum beats and haunting voices still remain with me decades later.
Like all good things and spring they moved on. One fine day it was time for pack up. Tents would get dismantled. The left over wares packed, their children scooped up and put back into the caravans. Again the chime of cowbells and soon it faded into the distance. The cloud of dust too would settle down and soon the riverside became calm and empty once again. Some colorful papers kept fluttering in the air. Some burnt twigs and ashes lie in heaps here and there. All a reminder of the spring gone by.
Early September 2006
A t-shirt here, a hanky there, some papers tucked away under the pillow, it was quite an exercise collecting all the items. Then I strolled to the other room it was her comb, a tiny hair clip, a little charm that had slipped off her bangle, I collect them all. Yes this is all that remains after the great summer fair that we had in our house! My children had comedown to spend the summer with us.
Like the gypsies they just moved in with their bags. Laughter, music, shrill cries filled the otherwise quiet house. They turned everything possible upside down. “We are on a holiday” was their excuse and even though I tried to act stern loved seeing the house bear this “wild” look. Movies, eating out, cooking on the terrace we did it all. Rap music of my son and sweet melodies of my daughter formed a perfect fusion called “noisy music”! It is heady and addictive. Friends and relatives came by and even joined the cricket match on the terrace. The house was echoing with life. I could feel the spring in my steps.
It was time one day for my gypsies to go back, leaving behind a trail of left overs and sweet memories. My eyes fell on the battered magazine, torn cover and dog-eared pages spoke about the storm it must have braved. Just a few days ago they were fighting over it like two bulls! Every thing around was not in place but they all looked awashed with a glow of spring.
Spring just went by. It can’t be too long before it returns.
posted by Autumn Leaf | 4:06 PM
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