Wednesday 27 May 2015

PAGES FROM NEW JERSEY

WEDNESDAY, 27 MAY

It is again a sunny morning. I get up rather late today at 5.30 AM. Yasmin prepares the Tapioca globules (Sabudana) poha for breakfast. It tastes good. She leaves for her office at her usual time.

I feel moist in the warm air today while walking in the park. I complete 2.2 Km and come back. The flowers planted yesterday have straightened themselves in the bed and look fresh with red and white Petunias, Flocks and different varieties of Vinca Rosea.

I leave the glass door open today as it is warm inside too. It is not hot like India but I feel the humidity inside the room. The movement in the park increases with the evening approaching. I stir fry lady fingers and Hyderabadi green chilly for dinner.

All of a sudden, I hear the pitter-patter sound of the rain drops. I rush to the terrace and find the sky overcast with dark clouds. The rain drops are quite big. There is thunder in the air and within a moment, it starts raining cats and dogs with high wind.

I worry for Yasmin. She must be on her way back home. I send a message. She assures me that she has the umbrella and is on her way back. The intensity of the rain makes me doubt whether the umbrella be of any use in such a heavy rain. But I can't do anything. I keep the glass door of the terrace closed. Just then I remember the window of the bed room and rush only to find rain seeping in through the blinds. The carpet near the window has become wet. I close the glass quickly and spread a towel to absorb the wetness on the carpet. Weather is really very unpredictable and moody in New Jersey.

Rain has cooled down the heat. Yasmin has reached. I make chilly and cauliflower pakodas to enjoy the rain together. The leaves of Sycamore look fresh but drooping in the rain. It stops raining after half an hour. To my surprise, I see the sun rays on the terrace floor. Clouds have parted a little to let the sun peep through. The weather changes its mood here like the dresses of a ballerina. The pakodas are very crispy.


Yasmin is working on her laptop and I, on my page of diary. Just then, we hear  some kind of strange sound at a distance. We rush to the terrace. I look up to see a flock of large sea gulls flying overhead, flapping their wings and squawking loudly. I ask Yasmin to click their photo but it is late. They fly fast and disappear round the corner of the tiled roof.

I should always keep my camera handy to click because 'the moment is there and the moment has gone'.


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