Small Is Beautiful

As I walk down the street, the early morning summer sun warms my skin and the trees that line up the path dance in perfect rhythm choreographed by the wind. As I bask in the fresh air, I wonder how many hues of lush green and the disparate resplendent colours of flowers in full bloom, I am witnessing. I lift my head to glance at the trees towering above drinking in the sun rays as they stream into my eyes. I stretch my arms up towards them over a whim. I look around to find a passerby giving me strange looks and I giggle.

I hear the soft music blaring from a radio close by and I start humming the familiar tune under my breath. As I turn the corner, the scent of Parijatha flowers hit my nostrils even before my eyes feast on the carpet of those white and orange flowers welcoming me on the sidewalk in front of me. I pick a handful and the softness of those flowers soothes my skin. I draw a deep breath holding them close to my nostrils. I put them in my pockets to savour the smell later on.

As I cross the Udipi Anand Bhavan hotel, a waft of asafoetida filled seasoning smell hits my nostrils and involuntarily my mouth starts watering with the image of the hot Idli Sambhar that would be served as breakfast in a while.

With all my five senses satiated, I feel fully alive. With a spring in my step, I bounce off towards home. That’s when it hits me. Where am I? This appears to be the heaven I grew up in. Wait, The song that I am hearing is from yesteryears. The flowers that I picked up, the Udipi hotel I crossed, they don’t exist now!!

It was the scene from my childhood, I realize with a start. As I stand still in a daze right in the middle of the road, I hear someone call out my name. I turn around to see my childhood friend Kiran waving at me. He was this lean, tall lanky guy. Wait he is in his teens wearing half pants. I look at my legs and get stupefied to find that I was wearing a pair of those too.

I touch my face frantically to find no beard – not even stubble.

“What are you doing in the noon today?” he asks me after giving me the customary hug in our signature style.

“Nothing much” I reply embarrassed at my croaking voice.

“Yes. Summer holidays are getting to be boring. Nothing to do but to play outside the whole day” he says.

“Yes.”

“Why don’t we go to see the movie playing in Rose talkies?” he asks pointing at the poster on the wall nearby. It is the poster of an old movie by Amitabh, my childhood hero.

“I know we have seen it two times already. But what else is there to do?” he questions tossing his hair back with that typical nod of his.

“Okay. Let’s do it. I will sneak out of the house after lunch” I reply.

We fight our way through at the ticket counter and manage to get hold of two tickets. Now that the movie seems to be running for more than two weeks as per the poster, the rush isn’t that bad. For Kiran, who is adept at getting those first-day-first-show movie tickets, this is almost like a cakewalk.

While walking back home after the movie, we rest for a while underneath the Neem tree. Spreading its roots over a large area, the tree stands proud and tall. The local folk had built a platform of sorts underneath it so that passersby could sit and rest in the shade. This is the “adda” the boys gravitated to in the evenings.

“These Summer holidays have been a real drag. Nothing much to do except for playing out in the Sun, swimming in the pond. I wish all the theatres played only Amitabh’s movies during the Summer” Kiran says taking a pebble from the ground and throwing it in the air aimlessly.

“Yes. It’s very boring indeed. I am looking forward to the opening of schools already. I never thought I would feel like this, but I do.” I reply.

“Tomorrow, let’s meet at the library at 10. My Dad wants some books exchanged.”

“Sure. Even I need to borrow some books. See you then” as I get up to leave, I feel something hit my face.

“What are you mumbling? Get up right now. In an hour the lockdown time is going to start and I need you to run to the grocery shop and get me stuff” I hear my wife Saritha’s angry voice blaring away as I remove the pillow from my face.

“Why are you so rude first thing in the morning? You spoilt my nice dream?” I yell back at her.

“I am having nightmares here and you are having nice dreams!” Saritha retorts with that incredulous expression of hers.

As I bike out of the house, I realise with a start what a beautiful life I had while growing up, playing outside all the time. enjoying nature’s bounty. We were breathing in the fresh air every day roaming about aimlessly without any worry and yet we complained about silly things.

How we took the simple pleasures of life so much for granted! Right now, I would trade anything to get back to those carefree days. Since I knew I couldn’t do that, I vowed to myself that I would start valuing the small beautiful things of life. 

I know I should learn not to sweat the small stuff, but at the same time, I should pause to enjoy the magic of the small stuff life has to offer.