Living in Hyderabad for the past eight months has shown me the vibrancy of language. The subtle nuances and turns of phrases which make a language unique. Currently I can express myself in three languages and attempt to express myself au francais. Juggling four languages day and night was an unique experience. I realized that I have actually stopped thinking in hindi, bengali or english. I think in all three or I think in a language of the mind.
Colour me green
Fresh green leaves on old majestic trees are like a sudden splash of joy. An Old green gate rolling open into a vast stretch of green grass is my earliest memory. The field dotted with innumerable little people dressed in royal blue and white gave me a sudden burst of excitement.
The grounds were moody rather muddy during rains,light green and yellow with spots of earth in summer...It turned a brilliant hue after the rains and little people marched on the chalk dust lines during winters...the trampled grass came back to life in spring.
Splashes of Red
I have always owned a red dress all my life. whether it be a baby frock as a toddler or a slinky red skirt when I was older...and then the years of living in red t-shirts and then the hand me down red pants which turned everything in the washing machine red. Followed by the red salwar kameez...one piece of clothing that I have always owned and wear till date is a red riding hood cloak. My grandmother knit it for me.....
I always go red in the face whenever I am excited...I wish my face wasn't such an emotional barometer and i wasn't the sentimental fool that I am...
Orange
Orange juice and lemon soul for a penny...
All the school girls are so many...
The grass is green and the rose is red...
Remember me when you are dead dead dead...
--lines learnt in nursery
No comments:
Post a Comment