Riches of the head and heart…

The mind is quite incredible in it’s capacity to store what we call, a ‘mind boggling’ amount of data…it sometimes feels that there will be an overload breakdown with the barrage of memories…ideas…information…impressions…thoughts…emotions…reactions and all their related responses…but the Lord be praised…there is no memory enhancing requirement, the one we have continues to absorb…store…delete…process with no real problem or outside help…most of the time! As someone wrote to me…memory is truly an amazing gift…

However, with all this data on tap, sometimes it seems that there is nothing to write about…which is an arrogance based notion of wanting the ‘big idea’ to discuss…the ‘clever thought’ to expound upon…the ‘complex emotion’ to deconstruct…whereas all we really need to do is to look around us…take in…remember…feel…and let it all wash over us in the warmth and thankfulness of the little and simple pleasures of life…and our memories…

Oftentimes, all that is really required for me is to let the joy of walking in the ¬†garden bring back it’s own host of treasured memories. The garden has always had a special place in our home whilst growing up, as well as with our own children, and a flood of memories are associated with it…in particular and especially, memories of the regular and traditional evening Tea in the garden with my parents…this was always a special and magical time of the day…a time of unspoken but deeply felt love and family ties…with friends and family often joining us because my parents being in the garden at that time was a given….an almost unacknowledged comfort factor at that time for so many of us…the laden trolley and trays of traditional tea fare and their favorite Earl Grey tea were staples…Mother always seemed to have arranged for an unending stream of goodies to cater to all those joining us…the enthusiastic discussions…the sound of abandon and laughter…Father’s wise ways with words and discourses which always brought young and old around him…the grandchildren lost in their own games and play area till the need for that extra slice of cake or samosa brought them to us…the boisterous cries of the boys busy at their cricket practice, confident that the next world champ was right here in the making, since grandfather and the uncles had all played for their schools and universities….the call to prayer breaking up the group for a short while…the children wanting to linger outside as long as possible thereby delaying the return to a schedule…good times, great memories…I am overwhelmed once again at the abundance and pleasure of memories that makes the whole such an absolutely incredible package…untold riches of the head and heart…

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