After some bungling and blundering about, if you persist..some kind of GP gets imbedded in your mind..? I cd pick up my way correctly as I walked in through the postern gate..These steps and the over bridge steps are a bit (much) neglected..carelessly thrown bits and pieces of discarded packets ...unswept..may be they do it less frequent;ly.. Thames flow gently on as I finish my song..ripling sound ever so mild..sitting in shaded culverts and under canopies..Do these children realise how lucky they are to be brought up in such environ..!
My childhood days , our home was also like this.Both sides gardens coconut grove on chetty side and vazhai and flower plants on rayar. Backyard full of coconut and tamarind and then kai (honey ! The berries dark and thorny fallen all along the way ,if you cared, could be chewn and honey tasted nice on your tongue.weavers houses lined the uprise beyond, silently shuttling their yarns, women deftly rolling up the wound up silk yarns..Very sylvan..You could pass through this grove entering from one bridge and exit by the other...
Here it was peace.As though I belonged there.picking my way along the footpath, spotting our entrance..
Now and then life has these patches.Good patches. but you have to move on..
