After the wettest February on record, there came the driest May. And a taste of early summer; of sunbaked soil and burnt-out fields, bright skies and light-filled evenings.
Prune gave us all a scare last weekend. She stopped eating, even eggs, which meant something serious. She had a traumatic couple of days in and out of the vets; blood-tests, scans, injections, gross medicines. If we were distraught, little Suzi was worse. She struggled without her big sister, and knew straight away that Pruney wasn’t alright. When Prune came home in the evening, Suzi rushed to her side, put her paw on her, and spent the night and next day next to her. That’s Suzi for you. One hundred percent selfless and loyal.
It was 11:10pm. The train was supposed to have left thirty minutes ago, and yet, it had not even arrived. Meanwhile, the already over-crowded platform got even busier. Women in saris of turmeric yellow and parakeet green, old men wearing dhotis and warm coats, girls in sparkly party dresses, running here and there, IT guys with their ubiquitous backpacks, jeans and checkered-shirts. We had already walked through the main station, where extended families were camped out on the floor, vendors were doing brisk business selling spicy snacks, and porters were collecting luggage. It was chaotic, noisy and dusty, and I was getting slightly tired of waiting.
It is kind of funny writing a post about Bergen, from Bangalore. But its been a week since I left. Driving away with mum, I commented that it was a bit like when I left Aberdeen; the car filled up with my stuff, and me feeling not so sad to be leaving. I’m not too good at sticking in one place, it seems.
The first few days of a new year, a new decade. A good place to reflect on time. Time moves fast in India. Buildings sprout where jungles and desert once were. A year, or two passing by is the equivalent of ten or more in Europe. But yet, somehow, sometimes, coming here can help you to slow down. To appreciate that some things really are timeless. The tropical birdsong, as the sun rises. The cascades of barbie-pink bougainvillaea, the birds of prey that soar between the high-rises. The white-blue skies of midday, the waving palm-trees in an evening breeze.
I should probably have called this post The Hunt for Dry October. Because since September, you can count the number of days without rain on your fingers. So it was something of a small miracle that during my Fall break, it was sunny and dry. The week started mild, with golden and burnt orange leaves whipped through the air by the wind. The same wind howled through the night, driving in a cold front that parked itself over the land for the rest of the week.
I recently made a ‘Dogs’ page on my site. I thought that it would be nice to have all the dog-related posts in one place, to come back to. I write a lot about those two, since they are probably the best part of my life. I have quite a few posts for Prunie, but none for Suzi, just for her. Which doesn’t mean she is any less special. Its probably because in April, her birthday month, I’m either studying for exams or of late, writing reports. But no more excuses, its Suzi’s turn.
