tickles of bunna nostalgia
11 April, 2008 | 5 comments | Category: i.mmigration, nostalgia.personal, prose.tales
my eyes glaze as pupils dilate basking in the otherness of my past….
the things i remember are not expected etches within my memory, they are random recollections of flickering visuals, smells, tickles and sounds…
the clatter of coffee beans nosily scattering on a metal roasting plate. incense flitter flattering the breeze, caressing curves of air wafting upward and sideways; releasing smells of home, comfort and cosiness. smells that mingle with prickly acid tastes of long grass strands spread across the floor, the musky, spiciness of incense and, soil, freshly moist feeding the grass outside the door, by the veranda.
incense rising around us frames my auntie’s face already framed by the peach-beige shawl. my mom has owned, my auntie worn this shawl during all her over-night visits to our house ever since I could remember. The luscious red rose petals appear to dance across the shawl amongst tiny brown geometric patterns adorning the length of her legs which are stretched out on the mat. she sits near the coffee mini-table with 9 tiny white cups appearing to gaze adoringly at a glorious black clay coffee-kettle.
When my auntie speaks, her mouth edges to one side; the scars across her neck create protruding fringes hidden till she arches her head up; a head with thick silky short locks usually big-curled or in curling bigodins.
i remember a conversation in this setting about a girl who lived across the driveway. She went to america to school, she was something of a legend in our neighborhood circle. A neighbor told the stories of the girl’s trials to my auntie who was sharing it with the rest of us. I could sense that we all felt butterflies of anticipation about my departure. With nerves at tickling ends, each of us wondered…could my experience be like hers?
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