I am putting one foot forward and then the other. It is a brisk walk that I am going for. I am not going to linger around watching trees or bushes. I am going to get my pedometer on fire. The best part about my pedometer is the green shower I get when I reach my goal. I like that shower — a little celebration of green droplets from the top of the phone screen.
I play that snippet in my head, “I am going to get that reward”, I tell myself as I turn the bend towards another street. I like this part of the road because it is flanked by the tall trees that I love. They flower just once a year but when they do, they make me heady and shower me with smiles.
I lose myself in that fond reverie with every stride — the good moments they have offered me over the years, the minutes when I have stood under those long slender wooded outgrowths and smiled, when I have just been mesmerised by the sheer look of those little flower heads dancing against the blue canvas and when I have simply taken in all the scent in a long deep breath and tried to keep it inside as long as I could.
I lift my head up to take a glimpse and there they were smiling at me graciously. I almost slow down at that sight but I am quickly reminded of the green shower on my phone and I pick up pace. I don’t want to be taken in by any sight. I want to go on. I hurry absently and that is when it happens. A sharp crushing sound breaks the silence and stops me in my tracks. I hate it. I curse myself. I know what it is even before I look.
This is the moment I had hoped would not happen. I cast my eyes down to check and there it was lying below — a freshly crushed flower in all its glory lying without care having lost all its vigour and smile. My heart is limp. “I couldn’t have avoided it”, I tell myself as my eyes sweep the place in one glance because scattered across the whole pathway is a deluge of white specks in numbers that is impossible to count. The white carpet stretches as far as I can see and it is a sight that I wait for through the year.
This floral bed is unlike anything I know because it is white, fresh, beautiful and most of all, the fragrance hangs in the air like a cover waiting to be draped. I bite my lips and sigh. “I have to go on and not stop”, I tell myself. I take a step forward and then look around.
The flower bed is bright and pretty. I smile and look up. The entire stretch of trees are decked in these brilliant white funnels. They are thin, with tiny yellow antennae that are sticking out from every bit of that wooded life. I almost chuckle aloud but I am reminded of the green rain in my phone. I want to not stop and keep walking. I put another foot forward when a breeze alerts my nose.
The perfume that washes me is intoxicating. I close my eyes to encase a snapshot in my memory and then, decide to continue to add steps in my pedometer. I glance at the pathway and I put my foot in spaces devoid of any flowers. There aren’t many spots. I find a little gravelled spot because the wind has washed away some blooms, I see a tiny opening for my toes, a little clearing for my heel and thus I jump and hop that stretch with a smile on my face.
I reach the end of the lane and I know I took longer than I should have. I stand at the end and look back at the sight. It is a stretch straight from a book — picture perfect. The little branch that stands alone across the dusky sky makes my heart light. It is pure joy. Well I may not have got my green rain on the phone. But, heck, who cares, I got a white rain that stretched the entire pathway. I would take that any day!
Sudha Subramanian is an author and writer based in Dubai. Twitter: @sudhasubraman
