"There is nothing like returning to a place that has remained unchanged to find the ways in which you yourself have altered."
~ Nelson Mandela
December. That same streaming of winter sunshine through marigolds and their fragrant, dark-green leaves. The view from the portico, a blurry tracery of gold and green. The tea that hasn't changed in flavor or the doting love with which it is made and served. Aai, my ever-smiling grandmother, pairing a ceremonial saucer with the teacup despite my repeated refusals. My favourite red-and-orange marigold that is planted every winter. The constant gardener, my grandfather, fretting over the indiscipline of the dried leaves in the yard lawn. And then, there's the sea. The never-changing, ever-same sea. The grey-green waves, folding and unfolding in similar crests, humming the same restless tune for years. Their self-destructive love of coming back to the same heartless shore regardless of the continuous battering.
The place of one's heart truly remains unchanged and so does that tiny corner of the heart that houses it. It will always stay the way it once was.
PS. Also, I did not know how else to pay my tribute to a great, wise man.
~ Nelson Mandela
December. That same streaming of winter sunshine through marigolds and their fragrant, dark-green leaves. The view from the portico, a blurry tracery of gold and green. The tea that hasn't changed in flavor or the doting love with which it is made and served. Aai, my ever-smiling grandmother, pairing a ceremonial saucer with the teacup despite my repeated refusals. My favourite red-and-orange marigold that is planted every winter. The constant gardener, my grandfather, fretting over the indiscipline of the dried leaves in the yard lawn. And then, there's the sea. The never-changing, ever-same sea. The grey-green waves, folding and unfolding in similar crests, humming the same restless tune for years. Their self-destructive love of coming back to the same heartless shore regardless of the continuous battering.
The place of one's heart truly remains unchanged and so does that tiny corner of the heart that houses it. It will always stay the way it once was.
PS. Also, I did not know how else to pay my tribute to a great, wise man.
Nice post and beautiful pictures Suman!! I love this marigold. And I love so much this quote too!!
ReplyDeleteThank you, my dear. Glad you like it.
DeleteThe indiscipline of dried leaves...I love it, and will remember next time they insist on doing their own thing..... with the greatest of ease!
ReplyDeleteHappy weekend,
Ruby
Ha ha! Happy you appreciate it, Ruby. Thanks for the wonderful comment.
DeleteIt's so nice to get back to your blog posts, Suman. I enjoy the snippets of life you show me from your part of the world. I know it sounds odd, but I believe I see where you are more clearly because I know that YOU know what it is like where I am - perhaps I somewhere in my head is the idea that because you understand my surroundings you will help me better understand yours.
ReplyDeleteGrandmothers - universal love. I completely understand your grandmother's insistence on making your tea special.
That is such a thoughtful comment, my dear. Yes, I understand what you mean when you say I'm well-versed with your part of the world. I'll try showing you the India, as I've done so far, that I know and understand, the one I have grown up in and also the one I find at times difficult to comprehend. So, so glad you love the snippets that I put together. Thank you dear friend.
Delete