Down Memory Lane

Dawn, the birds shaking out of their stupor, ruffling their feathers before chirping away to let the new day in. The gate being rattled - the milk man was here. Impatient to show that his bowl was empty and to get on with milking. The brush of coconut leaf spines against the damp verandah - our maid getting along with her work, arguing with my mother about why she was late again.

The pressure cooker squealing to glory, grinning that we would be getting idlies for breakfast again! That's what we woke up to most days. Then would follow a medley of groans and dragging feet. A mild chaos ensued while seven kids got ready for school. Shuffling feet, running water, gurgling throats, suffering knocks on bathroom doors, pleading for just five more minutes of sleep. The fan whirring a steady rhythm. Timmy barking away to glory - it had to either be the gas cylinder guy rolling one in or the neighbouring kid. Wonder what the kid had done; Timmy was always especially expressive when he came around.

Scraping chairs as everyone settled down for breakfast. Hurrying patter of footsteps while everyone got their shoes/keds on. The lucky ones got keds - PT in the time-table for that day! The rickshaw wallah would call out, let known his presence and whisk away the little ones while the older ones trudged to the bus stop. The house would settle down. Suddenly deprived of activity. In waiting for the familiar sounds which would herald the return of the batallion.

Life is Heard.