From the worms underfoot to the birds in the mulberry trees

How often have you heard the voice of a loved one in your head, a word of love or rebuke that echoes from a distant past, peppering the present, startling you with its loud insistence? Words uttered in times past, meant for times past, but words that shadow you, popping up in the most unexpected places and times.

Bless her heart, my grandmother was and continues to be a very special person in my life. She was a tough cookie and one who brooked no nonsense from anyone. But, we kids just knew, as only kids can, the depths of the bonds that connected us. Her soft cotton settum mundum, faintly tinged with the comforting smell of wood smoke or incense, depending on the time of the day, had been a great refuge from many a problem in our kiddy world. Enough of the fuzziness. She ruled us all with a pretty iron hand.

One of her regular commands were, "thaaze nokki nadakku!" or "look down and walk"! I have never figured out where that came from. Look down and walk?! Why? I am sure it was not because I had to hop and skip my way over potholes in the road. And it was certainly not because she didn't care whether my brother fell into one. For this one was strictly meant for the girls. Well, perhaps I picked up my love for pebbles and odd shaped stones from those days, for I certainly studied with intense scrutiny the gravelly road underneath me. I knew every dip, every nook and cranny in the dusty path that lined the tarred road between her house and mine. 

Then, time came in between. And the little girl wanted to see more. Not just the worms underfoot, but the birds in the sky above. That was thirty odd years ago.

Now, I stroll along the meandering pathway lined with mulberry bushes, the robins and I sharing the red hued berries. The trees are so laden with fruit that even after the birds and I have had our fill, reddish blue berries drop to the ground splashing the cement tiles with wild reds, wines, violets and purples.  The colours catch my eye and I pause to admire the artwork of the squished berries.

As the wind whistled past me, I heard it, "thaazhe nokki nadakku, kutty!" Instead of the frown that had wrinkled up the little girl's forehead ages ago, a smile crept up my face. Gosh! That has been a long and tough journey, looking up from the worms underfoot to the birds in the skies. What a journey that has been, across years and countries. There's no way I am going back to the worms. I might, just to gaze at the lovely artwork painted by the berries, but that's not the only sight I shall see... I'll stare at the wide open sky, the pretty, fluffy cotton ball clouds, the kingfisher majestically sitting atop the wrought iron lamp post, the black cormorants in their V shaped formation racing home to the lakes as dusk sets in over the desert. Ammumma could be frowning, but I just have this sneaky feeling that she may not be, as she watches the smiles lighting up my face and soul.

“Watch the stars in their courses and imagine yourself running alongside them. Think constantly on the changes of the elements into each other, for such thoughts wash away the dust of earthly life.” —MARCUS AURELIUS, MEDITATIONS, 7.47

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