Haiku Thoughts in my Garden

The susurration of the wind in the grass made me tingle to the bone. The calmness and the quietness except for the birds in the trees in my garden had a soothing effect on my soul. The night had been lovely, and the feeling was great. My friends had visited me for a cool glass of red wine and as they were aware that I am an early sleeper and a riser, left early.

It was a cool morning as I woke to the chirping of the birds in flight. The rains were good and there was a riot of green all over the place. As I got up with a spring in my steps, I could smell the flowers in the air.

We live not far from the center of the town- maybe two miles and for the standards of that town it was a pretty big distance. I wanted to be away from the maddening crowd, and I wanted my kids to have a breathing space and to lead a life with meaning.

The lady had brought the sapling from her hometown two hundred miles away. And we had to carefully carry the sapling placed in a jar of water for we had to travel in a bus that would normally take eight hours.?But then it took only seven and I thought that we were saved because it was important for us to bring it home for planting amongst the flower bed.

The long summer had dried up the riverbeds and the wadi had gone dry. The rains played truant. I was getting worried, and I thought that the continual dry spell would mean disaster for all.

Clouds dotted the sky and the smell of the rain hitting the hard earth was strong in the air , but it faded away in no time. I prayed in the mornings to the rain god and conversed with him to spare us from an impending drought.

I have heard of people selling the lands and their animals at throwaway price. There were eager people who saw good opportunity in this and purchased lands from the poor farmers and waited for the heavens to open up so that they can sell the lands at a higher cost. The cycle of birth and death became a deadly game.

And then the rains hit us and rained hard and solid. The life sprung again, and the waters flowed with a vengeance in the gulley making a musical sound.

I had taken a vow to walk every day when the going was good. It was around 0530 and I decided to go for a brisk walk. The country trail took me into the hills which I loved very much for they gave me the opportunity to see the entire town as it was situated on a higher plane. As I walked in the knee-high grass the wind picked and the grass bent softly.

The climb to the hill was fast because I had gained very good speed and I thought that I was peaking at the right time. When I reached the top, I took a deep breath and smelt the air. Was there a sign of rain? I wondered and prayed for a good shower as the sweet lime orchards needed a good rain. My friends were craving for a good shower as that helped the sweet orchards in giving a better yield.

The town lay quiet at my feet and I thought that the temperature was a smart 3-4 degree Celsius lower. I had struggled when I was in the town moving a dozen times inconveniencing the lady and the kids as my family was growing, and I wanted my own space.

I could see in the distance the bigger hills rising like giants guarding the town. Of course, I had also climbed them a long time ago. The town had grown unimaginable, and I never thought that it would grow because it had not rained for forty long years and there was a big famine forcing a big migration to the big cities. And now the rains have come back and the parched earth has become soft. Trees have come back, and wild vegetation and all the country trails shut itself off as the nature reclaimed its lost glory.

There was distant rubble of thunder and I thought I was right. My farmer friend of sixty summers having big lands had informed me earlier that the rains would be good and that the crops bountiful. As I paused on the hill for a deep breath and planning to start my katas, in the fading darkness I looked for my lady who comes from a landed gentry.

My beautiful home nestled amongst a big mango and papaya trees. I had grown eighteen varieties of vegetables and I would proudly tell my amigos that I need not go to the shandy for my weekly groceries. I did not see the lady, she was preparing the tea mixed with the citronella leaves, I guessed. The leaves were planted by me in my garden after it was gifted by my good friend - a man of 85 summers who lived on a big plantation next to a big water body that fed his lands.?That made him one of the richest men around.

The fragrance of the leaves was fresh, and I longed for the hot tea. The rock had been there for millions of years and as I lay my palm against them to start the daily routine. It was still wet with the morning dew and I felt the coolness. As I was straining myself against the rock doing my routine, I could hear from a distance the yelling of the bullock cart driver at his animals since they were stuck up in the soft mud. I thought it would be better to help him out.

I walked down the hill and approached him. He looked up and smiled. He was the man who supplies milk to us very day. He was not sure and said that he would manage. He was reluctant to seek my help as I was supposed to be a big man working for the Government. And in those parts, anybody working with the Authorities was treated with respect and as a man who can give any type of solution for any problem.

The cartwheels were embedded in the mud and the water from the paddy fields formed a big slush. The work was hard and long. We both strained our backs and lifted slightly so that the animals could move on their own. They were free and with a sign of a work completed successfully I sat on a small boulder. The man thanked me and went his away.

The chiming of the bells faded softly into the distance.