As the evenings grow dark and as gloom surrounds me on a rainy evening, it is time for reading. With occasional winds and power failure, I always keep a candle ready to light. The books take me to all the dream worlds far away: to the hills and mountains, to the monasteries and to the sacred chants. And when it’s all over, I look at the watch and find that I am late for the bed. The home is deep at sleep. So too is my pet, Jill. However softly I tiptoe to my bed, Jill will open her eyes to take a close look. I cannot escape her, as she will slowly wag her tail to tell me that she has seen me go.
The heat is gone and the nature seems to take relief upon the early showers. The rains take only a couple of efforts to cool Kerala. As for me, the candle lit readings that go with the dim evenings are truly heart rendering.
The old wind chimer hanging near my reading desk is busy these evenings. They cannot make those usual cordial summer notes. Still, in this early monsoon, they seem to call my attention. I think there is something special about it all: I simply love the magic of reading through these mystical moments.