Green and Serene

It was only when I knew I'd be moving away from Delhi that I suddenly began to appreciate all the greenery I had always taken for granted. Long, tree-lined roads on furnace-like summer afternoons welcomed a baking metal vehicle as it turned along shimmering-hot roads, and suddenly there was a coolness in the air, like getting an extra punch in the oxygen you breathe. In winters the trees clung to the mist, looming grey and bare on hazy mornings as we went to school, rubbing our hands to keep warm as icy winds tickled our ears and nostrils. In the monsoons, freshly bathed, they rationed out the rain through rejoicing leaves, and the tip tip that carried on long after the clouds were done ensured delightful, sudden showers as we puddle-hopped below sweeping branches.

Here in Dubai, one of my favourite moments is when I cross a carefully-cultivated grassy roundabout on my way to the bus-stop each evening. Even if I am hurrying, craning my neck to see if the bus is going to get the bus-stop before me, the old-friend smell of grass adds a touch of homeliness to the concrete that surrounds me.