Tezpur is an old sleepy town like any town in Assam. And this calmness and composure makes it more loveable by especially wanderers. It’s a typical humid July Sunday afternoon, cloudy but not the usual morose wet monsoon day. As I sip through my caffeine dose, the electricity ditches, leaving me with only sweat. But something told my guts that today I am to be surprised. And in the absolute silence , I felt the sudden gush of a cool breeze. Cool breezes are rare as diamonds in monsoons of Assam when the rains take a break.
I could hear the trees sway as if they have rejoiced the sight of a celebration. The leaves ruffled with joy , as if they are laughing on being tickled. The blue sky chose to play today. The constant hide and seek with the clouds and Sun was a treat to watch and confuse any mortal soul. A branch of the old mango tree in the backyard crackled but the creak was soon mellowed down by the chirps of the unseen visitors on its branches.
The afternoon was warmer than usual. And all one needed to come out of this agony, for a stroll to the riverside. Often people in India preferred to keep themselves behind the doors in the afternoons. But on a Sunday as this one, the Brahmaputra natives , preferred a picnic or just the company of the riverbank. It won’t have been the same if it had rained heavily; humidity too can teach you to bring solace. The wind was cooler on the banks. Small islands in the mighty river were all submerged by now due to the floods, the rice fields seemed to have never existed. The merely inundated big islands were the only exception.
Dusk brought newer surprises with the twilight. The resonating sounds of crickets filled the air. Greener pastures near my home which turned darker with the Sunset were now lit up by the fireflies. Once in a while the unusual cacophony of the native lizards also break the silence. But they are shy, more shy than the usual home lizards; the natural members of any Indian household. One thing admirable about Assamese lizards are they never stare you back rudely, in fact you hardly see them.
The branches all fell to silence in the early hours of darkness. The birds weren’t chirping anymore, evident that they have retired to their safe havens. But a hoot might surprise you from the old peepul tree at the street corner. Folks often feared to wander into this part of the locality where I sheltered. But often also envied the strong presence of nature in my neighbourhood.
A nice dreamy Sunday ended in wilderness with a profound sense of contentment that in this gizmo world , you can have such dates with the nature; getting pampered by its unconditional love. A love so perennial and omnipresent that you have to just close your eyes and hear to nature’s wonderful talks. But a love, who’s voice which gets muffled in our rushing busy lives.