It is the play of sunshine and rain. Sometimes, it rains heavy and sometimes, it drizzles. Sometimes, the sun shines bright and sometimes, the ships of clouds sail past the glorious sun casting a pall of shade over the earth. That’s how the lockdown period is moving at a snail’s pace bearing with the weather’s capricious mood and observing the town putting on the garb with patches of solitude and silence sewn all over it. It is especially the view of the deserted roads snaking along with twists and turns towards their destinations or end points seems to fly the banner of stillness.
My home is also in congruous with the outside world because it also embraces the silence that the outdoors has wrapped itself with. That is because of my reticent wife who always considers her words to worth their weight in gold. She is blessed with a nature to open her mouth only when it becomes urgent. In this regard, I consider myself to be lucky because reports keep on coming from my friends that their garrulous wives are disrupting their peace of mind opening the door to bedlam with all their weird naggings every now and then at this lockdown period.
Therefore, when the sentry of silence is guarding both the outdoors and indoors, I often board the ship of memory to cruise back and forth. The thing to scurry mostly the board of my memory these days is my home at the country side. The house was constructed with all the efforts of my father and that he built to live there along with his wife and his five sons as long as they were with him. All my elder brothers are happily settled in different metropolises over the globe now and I moved out of my home in the village after my parents breathed their last there. Presently, I a middle-aged clerk is working in the Deputy Commissioner’s Office and leading a contented life with my silent wife in the town but with a little bit of aspiration to buy one or two more pieces of land and own some more buildings in the urban area.
The sun cuddled the earth with a big smile today in the morning but as the hours passed by, the wind has started frowning and a fierce gust has gathered clouds from all sides in the sky. The wind is moist and smells of wet earth and that I feel will herald a heavy shower. Without betraying my hunch, the drops of rain in big sizes have already started drumming the rooftop. Along with the sky bulging with clouds I am also puffed here on the earth with the feeling of doing a great favour to my wife bringing down the clothes from the terrace given there to dry up in the sun. I have deposited the clothes on the bed expecting my wife to do the rest that is to fold and put them in the cupboard. That is because I feel that being a man it is not obligatory for me to trail any domestic work to its end point; if a part of it is done, I can say that much favour is shown to the wife at the cost of much manliness.
It is raining outside upon all the houses both big and small. The whole world seems to be blinded with white shower. During such a rainy day, no one at our home was allowed to step out of the house. Hence, the day witnessed the bawling of all the five brothers at home. Mother remained busy in her cooking keeping in view the taste of the whole family at home on the day. Father, the quietest member in the house kept his shop closed for the day when it rained heavy, because such a day never got footfalls of the customers in his shop. He then sat still in the chair by the window with his eyes rejoicing the show of bushes, plants, trees and grasses receiving rain water alike. His mind elated to see the trees and plants that he planted with much love and care being washed and nourished with rain water. He always said, “When you have trees around, you won’t have to worry because they are your true friends”. Father never allowed anybody to cut his trees down and let them survive as long as they could withstanding the onslaught of fierce wind or storm.
I am suddenly pulled out of my past with a mild tweak at my back. On turning back I am shocked to see the bizarre figure with face spotted with patches of white flour and screwed up with annoyance. She is none other than my tiny wife who has jerked me out of my sub-conscious state. She raising her hands dusty with flour and pointing out says, “I hear the vegetable vendor’s cry outside. Go and see if you can get some vegetables from him”. When I look outdoors, I see the rain has subsided and the vegetable seller who is more conscious in saving his head from rain water is wearing a plastic bag around it but has left his body and his clothes vulnerable to the lashing of rain. I cannot help but admonish him mildly at his inanity displayed asking him to carry an umbrella henceforth to ward off rain. The suggestion is given because I do not like to see him catching cough and cold when the pandemic, COVID-19 has trapped the whole world as well as because I like to see him brisk supplying us with vegetables at the time of crisis. But my disappointment sprouts when I see his vegetable basket. The whole basket has accentuated its emptiness with the presence of only a small and dry cabbage. But when the fridge is emptied out of all its vegetables, I must try to satisfy myself with this withered cabbage.
The lunch prepared for the day and displayed on the table adds to my misery of not being able to get sufficient vegetables. The lunch happens to be a sparsely one consisting of rice and a curry of soya chunks without vegetables in it. I feel now that the caretaker of my deserted house in the village excels me in luck at this critical time. The trees and plants in the garden there are paying back to the love and care that he showers on them catering to his necessities of fresh vegetables and fruits when different parts of the country is shot with the shortage of them. The words of my father that the trees are our true friends reverberate in my ears with their significances.
I have now resolved not to comply with my brothers’ plan to part away with the house in the village to advance our fortune elsewhere because that house, I feel, girded with the bounties of nature can support lives in necessities. The other decision that I once embarked on to see the construction of a building at the backyard of my house here has also lost all its worth for me now. Instead, I now envision a garden there, where trees and plants will grow invariably. I dream of green leaves there, waving their broad hands at me with the blow of breeze. The full turnips will glance through their supple leaves and the round and the long brinjals will burst out with violet smiles there. The carrots and radishes will vie for more spaces there and red tomatoes will make a stunning show along with their dark green leaves. The pumpkin creeper will climb with all the graceful curves and the bottle gourd will hang in bulk with deep contemplation. The pretty limes will embrace the mellow light by the coriander leaves bowing down with bashfulness. The luscious fruits with their varieties and worth will never feel underrated by the vegetables in the garden, that I can also assure them.
After the rain has shed all its tears, the sun has started throwing its sharp rays all around. Under the blazing sun, I now promise to see such a garden grow because I find trees are our true friends.
…….Dr. Fathema Begum
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