Now that our home WiFi has stopped working, I’ve been climbing the hilltop with my phone every sundown to use my 3g, which otherwise was wasted down home where even 2g barely shows up. Utilising it here might as well have the plants grow at 3g speed, I joked to myself as I stood before the mountain heap beside the road, looking up at it like a child. I was an insect before the giant thing. Weakness ran down inside my body suddenly, I doubted if it was from dengue I’ve been having from weeks or I was too old now to climb. This steep has been crossed in no time when I was little as a girl. But from the frailty I was going through, I wouldn’t be able to make it this time, I reckoned. Took the road back home. Straight and turned across the right, jumping over a narrowly passing river. Long steps up towards, right side walking with the compound of bricks, the gate, through which my home overlooked from down. I didn’t stop walking, on the road I’ve known from birth. As the short cut route down home arrived, I paused to look at the hill on the other side. Explored and left. I wanted to go through it’s bushes which hadn’t been touched since our days of playhood, but the newly established wild trees looked threatening. They stood like guards, having the hill prisoned. Before the rubber plantation took over this piece of bank, it had been open and bare. Homie like the others. Though it had been a less visited hill when compared with the others, we have seen it enough, scuttling across, from behind the acacia trees.
The evening was raining when I reached home. These patterings of rains are beaut, I mused as I sat in the divan by the train of windows in the hallrom. My hand sandwiched between my face and the cushion head.
The lights are back. As the room filled gold glow, my mom raced from the kitchen and pressed the ‘power on’ button in the tv remote, her face taut with hightail as to how many scenes would have been passed in the serial during the power cut. She, like every other house wife, takes the characters and incidents that appear in it so keenly that she sometimes ends up discussing them with me.
‘He wouldn’t do it on purpose. She should have understood.’
‘All because of that bitch’, continues ‘She should be caught’
Beginning, I used to wonder if it was our family relatives she was referring to. After getting used to hearing her everyday and knowing the characters by their names, after starting to watch the serials myself on a daily basis, she now gets my comeback in time.
‘Yeahhh. She should be caught!’