with such a hot summer here at 60 degrees north past mid way into the Summer of ‘22
the lakes are glistening,
the river flowing with its usual flood, slack and ebb,
the roads dry and hoovered daily
whistling wind and gentle leaves,
I could neither feel nor smell any advance of thunder lightning nor rain … yet the air is clean and clear and exhilaratingly good for the lungs..! But it’s getting heavy hot..England too was suffocating and forests burn where I walked in Portugal and Spain ..
(… like four winter years earlier….. I was walking through a blustering storm that evening.. The wind was howling and crystallised ice stung my face like sharp missiles… My hair dishevelled across my forehead , my trench coat acted like a huge sail blowing against me as I was stopped in my tracks unable to move.. Just swaying from side to side until a bigger blast, beaufort 10 just carried me in the air and flung me against the glass doors of a quaint little store .. now closed with it’s signage for its next opening at 0900 the next morning . I fell hard on the ground and nearly smashed my nose and teeth but some redeeming force saved me..what I saw through that glass door was a childish writing on a small blackboard …’LOVE IS SOMETHING ETERNAL.. THE ASPECT MAY CHANGE, BUT NOT THE ESSENCE’ …..
And that for me was said enough..)
…but not this year nor last …the weather is no longer in control of itself..
( of course I still see some youngster on the green organic train and sections of humanity fighting for change; us humans are inhaling plastic and air with heavy particles and absorbing acid rain … it’s a rage within the youth .. it’s not their attitude … but Gratitude…)though I do would like to tell them as a sailor seaman captain we ensured the seas were clean if not we’d get six of the best .. and rightly so.
Whilst up in Simla, Mashobra and Kufri the weather Gods sent the rain down and the landscape transformed from dry dusty hard earth and brown pine needles.. to lush green .. just like in Kerala where comes vetiver in colognes to that freezer freshness..
…As in past winter years folk trembled with freezer fever wearing more indoors ( than outdoors ) like overloaded elephants in the plains of Chandigarh, Amritsar, Delhi and Jaipur….I’m told.
… but here in July 2022 wearing my linen shirt to look the dandy I was, I cranked up the Toyota and went to pay a visit….
..I arrived at the entrance and looked across the stone wall, that low stone wall and saw them all… those special ones who lay in rest … The Bells tolled and folk all huddled for Sunday Church..
Stepping out of my jalopy I felt those “ special ones” magnetic force envelop me and I floated in like a shy swan…. the winter birds still around as I was; too soon but soon they will wing off and shoot past to the bird swamps in Africa and India and further south; little do they know it’s gonna be a mild winter next .. so far..so they could actually stay.
.. I walked on soft moss and found the path that lead towards them… there was but a dry patch of grass, parts unkempt but then it was still summer and no real whiff of winter…
I stopped right above them…
and heard their whispers questioning all changes above and past since ..
what would the next day bring, pray ..?
I knelt on hard ground answering whispering “ much has changed since you were here..
we wrote letters to each other then with fountain pens and Prussian blue ink…
waiting for replies ,
anticipating good news
sitting on rocks and sand banks .. passing time ..
just waiting … we met at family reunions that we never wished to end, years and tears flowed freely.. we walked hand in hand amongst the trees picking mushrooms and blue and lingonberries..
played golf at 0100 and saw a pair of Moose staring at us in our world of tranquility..don’t you remember? There was no sound, no rattle trap, just sailing clouds and fresh crisp pine air..and the bouquet of arabica and delicious cinnamon buns”
“…enjoying those moment..yes we did” the voices said in unison ..
“…steamers arrived at sand heads.. you shook the German Captain’s hand wishing him calm seas, following winds and a school of dolphins frolicking across the bows..
clambering down the pilot ladder your canvas bag followed you
as you stepped on to the pilot boat, a last wave, a goodbye until…
as you spent two days on the Pilot Vessel “Samudra” playing bridge with your mates, they called you Omar Sharif and the Aga Khan for at dances at the Calcutta Club and Club 100 ( yes members maxed out) you held a fair damsel intoxicated by your charm and flair to glide across the floor…with habana cigars and cogñac and crisp white collars, hand wrapped bow ties; you loved your brogues .. did you not..?”
“ and humans …?”they ask..
..”too many tooooo many” I respond …. “no space only squeeze and packed like sardines is also a new emoji”..
“Emoji.. what..?”
I say “ these are new ugly signs to express in an idiotic way… vocal human affection and warmth no longer exists …there is a small little bit of hell called a mobile telephone that you carry with you and sleep with … no not with your lover but with people called Apple Samsung Sony.. these people have entered our lives our bodies our brain and our mindset….hypnotism ? Oh no… it’s called e-invasion .. they have conquered they have succeeded… Rotary telephones are now perched on stands in forest museums as folk exclaim .. what strange bulky ugly things those were… surprise teardrop … yes that’s the F-ing emoji… 😡 this one is deep soul angry or properly pissed to perfection .
… I was then but a school boy at Boarding on a spur at 7500 feet..
But I grew along the years, along my ears and a long… filling out too…
“ is that a tinkering of some strange bell “ they ask…
“.. yes “ I say..” life is strange and fast and hurriedly stressed ..so to keep distress at bay we de-stress with organic food, yoga and Buddhist chants and sit on mats..and gong ourselves out…”
“.. and the cars? Which cars ply the roads now ?” One* of them whisperingly asked ..
I sigh “ The Big wheels still zoom but fossil fuels are being cut and so El-driven cars abound, the trains are more silent, but on the Delhi-Kalka route the coach still clanks and rattles and surges and lurches forward and I spill tea on my jeans…whilst the X-3000 from Stockholm to Karlstad shoots clean as a whisper… steam and coal engines are now in museums… we go and look at them once a year but we look at our photo albums and remember you all as you smiled and held us and loved us truly… and I at least felt the warmth, your compassion and in your April
the strength of feeling happy and secure…”
“My roots are deep secure and solid
I drive a hybrid .. but if I could I would walk as I have walked about 6600 km in the last + 800 days ; that is a simple stride, a simple walk and all I see in the distance… yonder are the silhouettes of Catedral Santiago de Compostela..”
I hear sounds, melancholic sounds.. someone singing and the strains of a harp..I strain my neck and my ears to see who…
It’s the wind chimes amongst the pines..
And then … they’re gone.
Bonnie Bhasin
No comments on today’s ways of the world.
26th July 2022
