The moon gazes lovingly, washing the green lawn in milky pearl glow. The giant trees, casting long shadows on the moonlit grass, silhouette against the benevolent sky, which is clear with hint of not so far-off spring. These are the trees I have known so well these years. I have come out of the warm rooms to beat the cold chill to which I have surrendered and to which I want to rebel by taking a vigorous walk. My steps warm me up and I can feel the blood rushing in and my frozen fingers opening up with the heat of my physical efforts. I forget my being and lose myself completely to the train of thoughts that find pace with the steps.

Today, it is the time for reflection and contemplation. In less than a month’s time, I will say au revoir to this cocoon and in the remaining days I want to pay attention to every detail. I have lived a life, gone through a gamut of experiences and watched many a sunrise and sunset here. It won’t be an exaggeration to say that this house has seen my metamorphosis from a novice to complete domesticity. The gossamer mornings, languid noons, orange sunsets as hundreds of gray pigeons perch on high-tension criss-crossing wires to find rest after hard day’s work against the clear skyline, reading books sitting out buried in the chair in the shade of the guava tree, all have been so special. It is here I have written many a blogs watching rain and the spectacle of roses blooming out side the long glass windows is something I will take in my heart. I will miss the “sunshine room” where the first sunrays filter through the glass panes and light up the hearth and lift my spirits as I bask in the new day with tea and newspaper against the backdrop of guava-laden tree peeping through the glass. It would entice hordes of monkeys who would jump around, chewing on the green fruits and littering much around. I have watched their antics so closely as I have seen parrots nibbling on the choicest citrus. The grapevine is another story.

There have been so many cataclysmic moments in my life that have been defined here. It has been a witness to many tears, laughter, mirthful dalliances, thoughts, dreams and many experiments. It was here that I started blogging and all my words have literally grown in these lush surroundings. Here I have learned about farming in the form of vegetable gardens, planting saplings, fruits as guava, mango, lemon, pomegranate, black jamun trees abound here.

Alas! This spring will come sans my presence and the nightingale will not be heard as she chooses perch atop the highest branch and sing joyous songs to the blue skies. In summer I shall no longer be a witness to the silent ochre regeneration of my favorite tree nor inhale the intoxicating jasmine as it flavours the nights. The monsoons will rain and replenish the plants I planted around here and wash the grime off the trees and burn the red brick-lined pathways anew. I will never forget the lilies as they shoot out of the green with the first rain and swarm the lawn in yellow delicate hues.

But I am a happy person and I understand that another groove is waiting for me and it won’t be long before I make it my heavenly abode. From this home I will carry the joys and longings cloistered in my heart and give them another fertile regeneration in the next. For now I wonder if the clear track my walking feet made in this long lawn by crushing the nubile grass will also sprint back to verdure with the first shower of monsoon!