A wondrous sight this snow in June

With perfume falling blooms caress my soul.

This heavy heart is lightened and I sing

Intoxicated by the rush of spring--------------------- Kadapaad

www.mikesjournal.com/June%202006/White%20Flow...

Blooming of my December mist

When I think back to those times passed I realize that what I remember most are just flashes, intriguing smells and stupid dreams (day dreams). There is nothing which can be “referred” as a memory. Nothing which has a starting and an end. Oh for god’s sake I can’t even remember a small conversation. My memories are flashes of some moments in my life (my walk past classrooms, trees which are decorations of my first school and of course faces of old friends)

One of my memories is about my first ever school. “Little flower”, name of a saint who is well known for her spirit and her generous loving nature, is the name of my first school. I always considered this school to be my only true school where I existed, where life began (though I been to two other schools). There used to be a tree in the front porch of the school and it formed significant part of the school. I still remember anxiously waiting for the bell to ring so that we could hurry to the tree and pick up the fruit falling from it during its blooming seasons

Its curious and illogical but I do have the capacity to remember certain unique smells. I can recognize some smells and connect it to my past. Smell of soil during first rains always take me back to my life as a little girl stuck inside house due to heavy raining and my little games with my sister. Other smell which I can identify are smell of jasmine flower and certain others which I can’t even name. Other part of my life was always filled with dreams and my imaginary world (really stupid I can say now).

To be truthful, a memory (image) which holds a definite and considerable part in my life is that of a plant, a creeper which grows near our front gate and covers up to the top of the shop near our gate. A special feature of this plant is that it blooms (small white flowers) only once in every year. When blooms, it gives the effect of snow resting on leaves after heavy snow fall. It always invites adoring looks from all passers by. I once saw a bus full of people staring at these flowers (Okay a little exaggeration but true in essence) but why this plant has so much effect on my life is that it blooms only on December (my birthday month). My parents usually made a great deal of my birthday. So as a child, I used to (still I do) start counting backwards from 1st of December And I used to consider (and truly) that these flowers were my birthday gifts from God and I wait for these flowers to bloom. I still remember my mother waking me up early morning to show me the wonderful sight of these flowers. It never failed me and I thank God every year when it flowers. I never missed the sight of these flowers from the window of the front room. I remember me and my mother going near this plant and shake it slightly so that some flowers fall and make a carpet of white flowers on the floor. I used to call the flowers “December poovu” (December flower) which later became December mist when one of my friends suggested this name.

My personal flower and a sweet memory still never fails to bloom and it awaits (as I consider) my return to my home on December for my birthday