Might
be it was a mid summernight. Dad hauled me out of my
bed. Arousing hurriedly like that, I woke up shocked, shivered with panic and
lay there staring in helpless bewilderment. It took some time to get back to my senses and to get
back to place and time orientation.
Owing to summer heat we all used to sleep in
the open on the mud verandah of our house. My mom, my younger
brother and all my three younger sisters. We all used to chat and scare one
another about the ghosts, our grand mother would recurrently unzip from her
aboundant recollection; the yonder sky the very distant stars and maybe about
the heavens their seven layers and the further faroff galaxy; while I would be more than
immersed in my own fantasy world of fairy tales and Arabian Night tales. The verandah
was encircled by small bushy vegetable
plants,of ladies finger,tomato,brinjal,chillies
and thick green creepers on which
moss green and curly snake gourds and country beans would be hanging in clusters.
A little further away were the jasmine shrubbery emitting erotic fragrance and
trying to envelop you in amorous dreams.
On the east lay a deep well which,
had its own haunting stories; fed the trees, plants and the big neem and mango
trees. Behind those huge trees stood hidden the vast dry latrine. The house had
all sides mud and earthen walls which domiciled, in their fissures and cavities
several horrible insects. Venomous reptiles like wild spiders, scorpions and centipedes;
they would be seen pillaging after sundown.
Apart from them the wild rats pig rats and such rodents also would
usually poke around the small garden. We were not scared about these little
devils and would sleep in the jasmine -fresh nippy and breezy summer air of the
neem and mango trees. My dad used his wooden cot as bed, where most late nights
he would be seen awake reciting verses from the quraan.
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