Meenakshi Mohan |
My Granddaughter’s
Fairy Garden
(for Veda)
It is spring
again. The earth is like
a child that knows
poems by heart.
Rainer Maria Rilke
At the nascent
hours of the morning
when the sky was
colored
with a blaze of apricot,
peach and tangerine,
I heard a knock at
my glass window
“cheer, cheer,
cheer”
Indolently, I
opened my eyes.
A red cardinal sat
perched on my windowsill.
Outside, a bunch
of pink cherry blossoms
rhythmically moved
to reach my window.
Then, a knock at
my door
Ammu, Happy Holi!
My four-year-old
granddaughter entered my room.
Her voice was
music to my ears.
She jumped into my bed
and snuggled under
my blanket.
She told me about her dreams of the last night
of fairies from
her fairy garden playing Holi with colors.
Ah! What an
excellent way to start the morning!
Later in the
afternoon,
she and I went to
her Fairy Garden.
I exclaimed, Ah,
no fairies here.
Shh! They are
sleeping now
and came only at
night to spread all the colors, she said.
But where are the
colors? I
asked.
Don’t you see? She said, whirling
around on the flagstone patio,
pointing to the vibrant
colored flowers –
rainbow-colored
pancies, red-pink azaleas, yellow daffodils
creeping phlox covering
the hedges in purple, blue, and pink,
many varieties of
perennials spreading colors and sweet fragrances.
The fairies came
and poured colors on the flowers, she said.
I smiled at her
imaginary fancy tales.
We sat on the
stone bench next to her fairy house,
where her fairies
were taking their siesta.
The butterflies
hovered around from flower to flower.
Naughty squirrels
chased each other,
and grey-orangish
robins splashed around in the birdbath
while my
granddaughter weaved story after story.
But for me, her
fairy garden, her chitter-chatter
were so salubrious
and refreshing
that I wanted to
live in the moment.
Images of my
childhood flashed through my mind --
collecting
yellow-white mogra flowers with my grandmother,
interlacing them
to make garlands,
and sharing with
her my imaginative stories,
while she listened
intently.
How time flickered
by so quickly,
leaving the
footprints of sweet memories.
I wondered, many
years from now,
would my
four-year-old granddaughter remember
these innocent,
beautiful moments
of a spring
morning?
Bio: Dr. Meenakshi Mohan is an educator, art critic, children's writer, painter, and poet. She taught at universities in Chicago, Boston, and Towson, Maryland. She is a widely published writer in both academic and creative areas. She is on the Editorial Team for Inquiry in Education, a journal published by National Louis University, Chicago, Illinois. Meenakshi received the International Panoramic Award for Writing in 2021. and an Award of Excellence for Literature and Art from Setu Bilingual Journal, Published in Pittsburgh, USA, 2022. In addition, she received the Literoma Laureate Lifetime Achievement Award in 2024. Meenakshi lives in Maryland, USA.
Sweet moments captured with love❤️
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