By L Aruna Dhir
Ever since I have returned to home base, I have become more alive to the microcosm around me.
Life – different forms of it – which envelopes me these days, engages me in active dialogue.
While we were in Delhi everything was a sort of blur, cloaked in putrid smog trying hard to show up in its conning best as misty mornings and dusty-hazed dusks.
The change in weather mostly trundles into the other in worst possible manner in metros – from choked drains in Monsoon to Summer pests feeding on mountainous buffets of garbage at every street corner.
In ‘Ibaadat at Lucky Manzil’ though, the Seasons are sharply discernible, in pleasant ways. Marked as they are with the appearance of fruit, new crop of vegetables and popping up of flowers, transitioning from one kind to another.
The Marigold and Chrysanthemums that lasted us through winter and came on the heels of roses, have given way to a blast of colours. Spring is such a show off in its breath-taking splendour.
Just last night, the Drawing Room was infused with the heady fragrance of ‘Raat ki Rani’. One could easily get used to the goodness of such bounties, intensely intoxicating as they are!
Our Winter table was laden with rich, organic greens – Spinach, Fenugreek, Amaranth, Mustard, Chenopodium. Our salads had the freshest Carrots, Radishes, Beets…we were spoiled for choice.
And now we are reaping Bakla (Fava beans), the healthiest Cabbages and flavourful tomatoes while sowing the summer crops.
It’s also the birds and bees that bring the sound of seasons. Mynahs, the long-tailed Rufous Treepies, the odd Sparrow, a resident murder of Crows, the cacophonous bunch of Babblers, the secretive Owl that lives in the Mango tree, the majestic Eagle that glides across our slice of sky keeping us under his watch and returning to his home perched high up on our Silver Oak tree. Then there are the Spotted Doves who soft foot around with poise, the purposeful Woodpeckers, the stylish white-breasted Jal Murgi, the Bulbuls who are picky about their fruit and parrots who are generally peckish.
I have noticed that the Oriental Magpie Robins are bolder here as compared to their Delhi cousins. It is not uncommon to find them flying past at my forearm level while I stand in the patio basking in the last of toasting Sun rays before they become searing.
The plump squirrels are a friendlier, less scaredy-balls of energy too. All winter they have tried to get close and bite tufts out of my fluffy, faux mohair socks to pad their dreys. They come to the dog feeding spots to get their mouthfuls. Perhaps one day soon, I will be able to stretch out my hand and have them pick up a treat right off my palm!
While October and November gave us Pomelos, and then it was the Indian Gooseberry, we are going crazy over Pinterest worthy scenes from our flowering and fruiting Pear and Peach trees.
The Crown of the Mango trees have sprouted ‘Baur’ – the blossoms, signalling a handsome harvest. First, it is the Achari Aam that we should be industrious enough to pickle and preserve. Then we will be looking forward to Dussheris and Gulab Jamuns together with luscious Litchis.
The Sky shows up differently too in Dehradun as the earth rotates. The Moon is such a sight – from Crescent to the perfect Circle, from shades of white and hues of pink to the Blood Moon just a few nights ago.
Seasons speak to me inspiringly in Ibaadat at Lucky Manzil – in their sights and smells, in the thick gowns they gather about them and the sheerness they dress down to, in the fruits they come bearing and the flowers they adorn my soul with.
And then there are the denizens I share my space with, each imparting priceless lessons in respect, dignity, love and inclusiveness!
Life may be slow, but it is sure as hell blissful!
(L Aruna Dhir is the author of the Bestselling Memoir – Hotel Adventures with the Stars. She is also a recognised International Hospitality Writer, a national poll winning Corporate Communications Specialist, Poet, and India’s first-ever Creative Writer with Archies Greetings.)
