Transformed. What had previously been just a small balcony, high up on the thirtieth floor was now a sight to behold. Previously, if one stepped out gingerly and viewed with some trepidition, the sheer height at which one stood, one was overcome with giddiness, nausea almost, if one was me. The kid however, exulted and with whoops of joy enacted the classic Titanic pose arms outstretched, while the mum, read me, had hysterics within.
The day her friends came over, they gasped at the view, then firmly held and propelled a paranoid me out of the bedroom. (My bedroom!) "We are eighteen, aunty, " they benignly reassured me, " Not eight. We are not likely to leap out." Very gently they led me out to the hall, where in between half heartedly watching, 'Grey's Anatomy' I chipped away at my finger nails, a ear cocked for trouble within.
The scream, when it came, had me out of my seat, and like an arrow shot from Genghis Khan's bow, i was in the bedroom. The kids were doubled up with laughter. "You should see your face, Aunty," said her friend when she recovered. "Howlarious." I retorted before stomping off again. Later, my kid confessed that it hadn't been a joke. While attempting to step out to the balcony, one of her friends had tripped slightly and landed on my kid, who had then tilted onto her other friend. The three averted disaster, by clutching onto the railings. That did it.
A few phone calls later, the next day, I stood proudly surveying my newly installed garden. The Bougainvilla took to the railing like Romeo to Juliet, clinging on dizzily to the bemused railing. The Chilly tree stood tall, beside the Crotons that flirted gaily with the Poinsettia. The herbs formed there own band, the Aloe Vera spikily guarding the delicate Mint that stood under the benign shadow of the velvety Oregano, that flirted with the gently swaying Basil. The latent gardener within me awoke, and I laboured after the plants. From watering them assiduously, to chasing off the pigeons, who cooed and snuggled up to each other, playing hide and seek in between the pots, and scenting up the place with their droppings. At any point of time I would hear them and charge in broom on the ready, to do battle with them. A lone eagle came and perched above the herbs every morning, loftily surveying the green patch, before sweeping off in majestic flight, in front of my admiring eyes.
Meanwhile, my balcony now became my boudoir. The green sight of the plants, my plants, first thing when i awoke, was a beautiful way to begin my day. Every member of the house had their particular favorite. The ma in law was protective about the hibiscus, for the one day that it bloomed, sighing over its scarlet splendour and caressing its soft petals. The kid guarded the roses with her life, threatening the maid with dire consequences if she so much as touched a single one. ( "I'll cut off your hair, if you pluck even a single one of my roses!" when she wanted to pluck one to adorn her hair ) The hubby surreptiously counted the chillies when he thought no one was looking
So the days elapsed. Sailesh, the gardener was duly called after a month. The plants had to be given their dose of fertilisers. He was all admiration as he stepped out, scanning the plants with an expert eye, I was all ears trying to learn from him. As he pulled the pots towards him, a loud screech came from above. The huge expanse of wings swept dangerously above his head, while we got a too close for comfort glimpse of the wicked beak and malevolent eyes that glinted angrily at us. Stunned, we stood staring at it. As it swept on its way, Sailesh bent and ! There it was again, the loud screeches of the eagle rang in our ears, before it swooped again, almost taking Sailesh's hand with him this time. Hurriedly we both retreated into the room, closing shut the glass windows. The work on the pots was completed, thereafter, with Sailesh, hurriedly grabbing a pot at a time and working from within the bedrooom. Each time he grabbed a pot or restored it to its position, I stood guard anxiously. The eagle must have dived each time, at least eight fell swoops, before it was satisfied that we weren't taking the pots away. For the next few days, it even chased off the pigeons. The poor things would land between the plants and strut, and the eagle would arrive, scattering the petrified birds, leaving a trail of feathers in their wake as they dived off to safer havens.
"Staked ! Ma , he's staked a claim over your garden," exulted my teen crowing over me. "Screeeeeeeeeee." she hovered over me, arms outstretched, flying in mock circles around my head. "The revenge of the Teen," she yelled delightedly, as she flew out of the room.
The day her friends came over, they gasped at the view, then firmly held and propelled a paranoid me out of the bedroom. (My bedroom!) "We are eighteen, aunty, " they benignly reassured me, " Not eight. We are not likely to leap out." Very gently they led me out to the hall, where in between half heartedly watching, 'Grey's Anatomy' I chipped away at my finger nails, a ear cocked for trouble within.
The scream, when it came, had me out of my seat, and like an arrow shot from Genghis Khan's bow, i was in the bedroom. The kids were doubled up with laughter. "You should see your face, Aunty," said her friend when she recovered. "Howlarious." I retorted before stomping off again. Later, my kid confessed that it hadn't been a joke. While attempting to step out to the balcony, one of her friends had tripped slightly and landed on my kid, who had then tilted onto her other friend. The three averted disaster, by clutching onto the railings. That did it.
A few phone calls later, the next day, I stood proudly surveying my newly installed garden. The Bougainvilla took to the railing like Romeo to Juliet, clinging on dizzily to the bemused railing. The Chilly tree stood tall, beside the Crotons that flirted gaily with the Poinsettia. The herbs formed there own band, the Aloe Vera spikily guarding the delicate Mint that stood under the benign shadow of the velvety Oregano, that flirted with the gently swaying Basil. The latent gardener within me awoke, and I laboured after the plants. From watering them assiduously, to chasing off the pigeons, who cooed and snuggled up to each other, playing hide and seek in between the pots, and scenting up the place with their droppings. At any point of time I would hear them and charge in broom on the ready, to do battle with them. A lone eagle came and perched above the herbs every morning, loftily surveying the green patch, before sweeping off in majestic flight, in front of my admiring eyes.
Meanwhile, my balcony now became my boudoir. The green sight of the plants, my plants, first thing when i awoke, was a beautiful way to begin my day. Every member of the house had their particular favorite. The ma in law was protective about the hibiscus, for the one day that it bloomed, sighing over its scarlet splendour and caressing its soft petals. The kid guarded the roses with her life, threatening the maid with dire consequences if she so much as touched a single one. ( "I'll cut off your hair, if you pluck even a single one of my roses!" when she wanted to pluck one to adorn her hair ) The hubby surreptiously counted the chillies when he thought no one was looking
So the days elapsed. Sailesh, the gardener was duly called after a month. The plants had to be given their dose of fertilisers. He was all admiration as he stepped out, scanning the plants with an expert eye, I was all ears trying to learn from him. As he pulled the pots towards him, a loud screech came from above. The huge expanse of wings swept dangerously above his head, while we got a too close for comfort glimpse of the wicked beak and malevolent eyes that glinted angrily at us. Stunned, we stood staring at it. As it swept on its way, Sailesh bent and ! There it was again, the loud screeches of the eagle rang in our ears, before it swooped again, almost taking Sailesh's hand with him this time. Hurriedly we both retreated into the room, closing shut the glass windows. The work on the pots was completed, thereafter, with Sailesh, hurriedly grabbing a pot at a time and working from within the bedrooom. Each time he grabbed a pot or restored it to its position, I stood guard anxiously. The eagle must have dived each time, at least eight fell swoops, before it was satisfied that we weren't taking the pots away. For the next few days, it even chased off the pigeons. The poor things would land between the plants and strut, and the eagle would arrive, scattering the petrified birds, leaving a trail of feathers in their wake as they dived off to safer havens.
"Staked ! Ma , he's staked a claim over your garden," exulted my teen crowing over me. "Screeeeeeeeeee." she hovered over me, arms outstretched, flying in mock circles around my head. "The revenge of the Teen," she yelled delightedly, as she flew out of the room.
Brings back memories..
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