A Rendezvous with a Goat

Last evening, I plucked baskets full of spinach, coriander, methi (fenugreek), eggplants, peas and beans along with a few tomatoes, radish, a small pumpkin and a papaya from my vegetable garden.   The sky was draped in an orange glow, butterflies in several color combinations were fluttering at a distance, the wind was gently playing with my errant hair strands and heaven seemed to have descended upon earth.   I was consciously making an attempt to enjoy the ‘bliss’ and stop myself from thinking, “What am I going to do with all this?” The maid, the driver, the gardener and the neighbors everyone seemed to have had enough from the above bill of fare.   My daughter had vowed that she would never make her kids go through the bounties of a kitchen garden.  

A sudden movement in the corner of my eye brought into focus a rather large sized goat jumping over the barbed wire fence; headed for a luscious dinner courtesy my green patch.   My blissful quandary vaporized in a moment as I tried putting on a ferocious scowl and started looking for a stick.   The visitor seemed quite determined to have a feast and it continued ignoring me nonchalantly to the point of being rude.  

Maintaining a respectful distance, I clapped, whooshed, clucked, stomped; all to no avail.   I was amazed at how my thoughts seemed to change in micro seconds.   I wished I was a cowgirl who could smoothly lasso the goat and tie it to a tree; thought about hurling the stick at the target but my dismal record at darts kept me from throwing the only weapon I had.   I cursed my husband for not being around when I needed him and finally exhaled deeply and told myself to calm down- there was no point in getting hyperventilated.  

I glanced at the baskets that I had hurriedly deserted on the ground and I glanced at the goat that was now nibbling at the edges of the spinach bed.   A premonition from the heavens came to me in that moment! I grabbed some veggies in a basket and ran towards the fence.   Dumped the colorful mix there unceremoniously, puckered my lips and made well, er… loud kissing sounds.   That certainly caught the goat’s attention and it started moving towards me.   I pointed to the laid out tomatoes, spinach, eggplants and beans, batted my eye lashes and prayed I made an impressive sight to the four legged creature.   Halleluiah! The goat started moving towards me.   Calmness had left me again and my heart was racing.   I hastily started tossing the stuff over the fence, hoping and praying that the goat followed the food and I had enough time to get out of the way.  

So all in all, the goat was out of my yard and I no longer had to think about ways of off-loading the day’s harvest.   I just hope this uninvited guest does not show up again soon.   And I sincerely hope for better ways to set my heart racing!

Gotta Make My Own Bliss

The beautiful bungalow we have rented on the outskirts of Bangalore has breathtaking views and a sloped terracotta tile roof all over.   Inside, a ceiling with wooden beams shows off these earthen tiles, offsetting the cream colored walls with red oxide cement floors.   These tiles are a true example of beauty and practicality being unable to function hand in hand.   For the last couple of weeks, each evening has been spent positioning garbage cans and buckets all over the house to capture the rain water dripping from the ceiling.

This morning I was walking through the house with my neck craned up, trying to spot the leaky tiles.   I was irritated at the ‘sealant guy’ who has supposedly sealed these tiles a number of times.   It was beginning to dawn upon me that this was another one of those things that I would have to learn to live with- dodging the buckets and garbage cans when I get up to check on my daughter at night.   The incessant rains of the last few days had not helped perk-up me up and this certainly was not my idea of rain-water harvesting.



I walked about with a sore neck and a doubly sore mood, when unexpectedly I was enveloped in warm light.   I relaxed the corners of my squinted eyes and continued standing under the large sky-light in the foyer.   Psychedelic yellow, orange and red swirls filled up my blind vision.   They were beautiful in their own blurry manner; continually changing in color, pattern and intensity.   I was so overcome by the visuals and the warmth that I failed to think about the leaking tiles.   I knew they still existed in the background but taking pleasure in the peace that surrounded me seemed much more vital.

Those couple of minutes of composure were enough to ebb away my frustration at the rains, the leaks, the tiles, the buckets and the incessant dripping sounds through the night.   The warmth of the sun rays tenderly reminded me that inherently my bliss is there to find, it depends on what I choose to focus on.

Taming Nature, Was It Meant To Be?

I stood on our porch this morning and gazed at the sea of greenery in the backyard.   Several hues and heights of green fluttering gently in the wind, presented a sight that would bring calm to any mind.   A few more steps and I stood under three magnificent trees, took a deep breath and looked up at the canopy formed by their knotty branches.   The clear blue sky playing hide-and-seek with the leaves and a few bright yellow butterflies dancing amidst the sun rays immediately made me wonder if that is why we tend to look up when we think of God.

Suddenly a sharp insect bite brought the reflective frame of my mind to an instant halt.   I realized that the sea of green I was standing in, was actually an overgrown mass of knee-high weeds, and mounds of crab-grass that had somehow managed to not get engulfed by the dandelions and poison ivy. Such a shame
, I thought; to let this place get into such a disparaged condition.   Hey! Wait a second, I thought again; hadn’t this very sight from the porch just brought calm to my mind.

Thus began the conflict, the battle of right versus wrong!   One part of me told me to get a glass of iced tea, sit on the porch swing and enjoy nature as it was meant to be.   Let it all grow wild, let the survival of the fittest come into play- who cares whether it is poison ivy, crab-grass, dandelions or any other plant. They all look serenely beautiful from a distance.   The other part, of course blamed me for being languid and not allowing nature to nurture as it was meant to be.   Get down on your knees, pull out the weeds, dig the soil, soften it, knead it, water it and plant something useful.   Watch the glory of the saplings germinating, flowers coming to fruit and then sit on the swing and enjoy the bounty.

So I sit on the swing, without the iced tea, without the bounty and ponder.   Who am I to pull out these vibrant greens that seem to grow so possessively on this piece of land?   They were here before I moved into this house.   Or a larger question, who am I to try to regulate what sprouts from the womb of Mother Earth?   That too, for my own benefit?   In a perfect world order, would I have the moral authority to do so?   Now, is it truly my lethargy that is feeding these audacious notions or have I really hit upon an all important query in life?   At this point, I don’t have a resolution and the pondering needs to continue.   However given the speed of my thoughts, one thing is for sure; I will need to make quite a few trips to the grocery store to put vegetables on the dinner table.   For home-grown vegetables to even be a possibility; the veggies will first have to participate in the ‘Survivors’ show being played out live in my backyard.   Tune in, 24/7, nature’s first reality show!