Heaven must be green.
Aahh! the greenery..
Green that's the colour which I see when I reminisce about my childhood. I grew up in a flat on the last floor of a four storey building surrounded by forest on its three sides. The most fascinating thing about this flat was that each window faced the woods. Our building was right besides Aarey Milk Colony which was once a luscious green patch of nearly 15 square kilometers of land. It is an extension of Sanjay Gandhi National Park in the city of Mumbai, India; so the view from the windows of my house was of lush green trees and plants veiling every inch of earth and add to that a pond which was only meters away from my building. Peaceful, prosperous and pleasant this place was indeed one of the few places that come close to heaven in its appearance.
I remember waking up early in the mornings and looking out from the windows, the whole surrounding would be covered in fog resembling the set of heaven shown on many Indian mythological television shows telecasted during my childhood. The trees would seem like they are floating on the divine mist dispersed by mother nature and plants would peek out from this mist trying to capture the beauty of the rising sun.
That is one hell of a path for a King.
My place was always impregnable to the noisy fuss of urban world, the only sound which filled the surrounding was of forest life which was more soothing to the senses. Once, I eavesdropped on a conversation of my neighbor and my father, they were lauding our surroundings, I heard my father say that no matter how lazy one felt while getting up early in the mornings, a view of our surrounding always invigorated a person to perform his routine. I couldn't agree with him more, the reason I must tell you. I was always unenthusiastic about attending my school but the serene view from my windows and the path which cut through the forest to reach my school would inundate me with exuberance. My school was just 700 m from my place to be approximate and so I would walk to my school early in the morning since my school would start at 8 am. I would literally feel like a king throughout my walk as the plants along the sides of the narrow pathway would be adorned with small yellow, red and blue flowers. The grass and the leaves of plants would have droplets of dew on them which would be transformed into sparkling diamonds by the rising sun. I could hear the songs of birds which were inspired by the first rays of dawn. This sensational setting was infallible in cheering me up.
Good old times.
At times me and my father went fishing in the nearby pond. I remember more than fishing I enjoyed running into the woods around the trees trying to catch squirrels, take a closer look at the glamorous attires of butterflies, observing wandering reptiles and playing with the beams of sunlight penetrating the canopy.
Thou are a chameleon.
During evenings I almost always watched the setting sun from my windows or from the terrace of my building, it used to be an amazing sight. The green surrounding would change its colour to golden greenish and from that to orangish green as if it was slowly absorbing the rays of setting sun.
But in the world everything perishes over a period of time whether it is good or bad. Eventually, urbanisation started showing its effect; forest cover reduced, mist disappeared along with the pond, smoke and horn noises of vehicles started reaching the senses. No sooner only a small patch of land remained bearing the legacy of once thick woods which gave me an abundance of unforgettable memories. I still visit the woods which have enthralled me since I became aware of its existence but these visits are always imaginary and so often are accompanied by heartache.