Cup of Tea on a Rainy Evening,,

This is one post that I've been meaning to share since quite a while, had thought of this during my last days at home, Haflong,, how very far away that sounds, especially this rainy evening, just having heard a train thunder by, with the delicious train noise, that somehow always makes one feel home-sick. Anyways, it was during my last few days at home, I was in the habit of going to my old school, which had been re-modelled into a Missionary Hospital, a few years back, and helping out there, since no doctor ever stayed there long enough, and one windy January morning, after my morning rounds were taken care of, I was indulging in the lovely luxury of a book, while basking in the sun, which had decided to make an appearance, albeit a late one, that day, when I noticed a lady sitting some distance away, a shawl covering most of her face and she was rather busy reading a news-paper, and since I knew for a fact, that no news papers had been delivered there for the past two-three days, I couldn't help but wonder who she was and what could she possibly find so engrossing, in old news,she seemed to be reading it the way children mug their lines, before exam time, and she also looked so very familiar,,, No! That couldn't be who I thought it was, I decided to enquire of the sister there, and it turned out, I indeed had recognised one of my old High-School teachers, who had since then been diagnosed as being mentally compromised and was staying at the convent,, I went to her and said "Hello",,She squinted against the sun, and smiled, I knew she had no way of recognising me, as I had lost quite a bit of weight (more like,dwindled from triplets to a single child), but after some time, on chatting a bit, in the lovely voice and diction I remembered so well, she said my name, and that my voice was still the same,,I was so happy, she was this lovely lady, who always spoke impeccable English, and wore beautiful, single colored silk sarees, she always smelled of something sweet, a smell I later learnt, belonged to ' pot-pourri', and her eyes still twinkled! She asked what I was doing, and reminisced quite a bit, with no sign of any mental disorder, in what she said, or the way she said it,,I spent some time talking, and then let her get back to her paper,,

The day before I came away, I went back, in the hope of meeting her, of saying Good-bye, she wasn't there, her brother had been to the convent, and taken her to their village for a visit.

She was a sad reminder of my days back then, of the life and people I had since then left, perhaps for-ever, and I felt sad, as I am doing now, writing this down,, for all that was past, those happy, mad, joyful days, the friends, the small desires, the small house I started my life in, my small town, life was at its best then,,, I miss it.