Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Secret Conversations With Midnight.

I'm at a place where things are falling apart. Literally. Our book case which is older than me, came apart. It was heart breaking. I like to think of it as a shrine, of me in different points of my life so far. Every now and then I take out a book or two and read a page and remember the old me reading that page. It's a different kind of nostalgia. And  I'm thinking of an exciting new project to restore it. You will definitely be hearing from me if things go according to plan. 

Speaking of shrines....there's one right behind my house. I like to think of it more as  a secret garden. It's a neighbor's property but every time I look at it I can't help but feel eerie: 




 The path you see is the one that leads out of my neighbor's house. But they hardly ever use their own "backyard" so to speak. 


The funny thing about this plot is it must be part land and part water, because we see water hyacinths grow! And every time it begins to even minutely drizzle the smell of wet earth rises sharply. I look out and watch the trees quiver and whisper secrets to the wind.... 




Our neighbors are extra zealous about guarding this plot of green. In this age of apartment complexes, they refuse to do anything with it. I like to think that they must have some secret buried in there. Could there possibly be a body?


 Don't mind my over-imaginative mind. 


But it is true that this is the most convenient spot to hide anything for anyone whose houses look out to this secret dense, too - wild- to- be- called-  a- garden, garden. It's more of a cross between a  forest and a garden: a garest maybe? 


Or a pit. An embarrassment pit. Got a pack of cigarettes you shouldn't be smoking? Throw it out there, no one will ever know. Got some pictures of you, that are better left unseen? Pit. Sometimes the street dogs hold meetings there, at 2 am in the night. Barking their heads off. And on some nights, I hear a strange bird call. I've learnt to recognise it now. My nocturnal study- birdy. She's called Midnight. I don't have pictures of her. I haven't seen her myself. But I can only imagine, the secrets she must be bursting to share with me. Secrets that are lost among the land, the water, the dogs and among our secret selves. 


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