Reminiscing My Childhood Wall

"Something there is that does not love a wall' so wrote the great American Pastoral poet Robert Frost, he thought about the great dividers between neighbors and nations..are walls really so important? I have always wondered. In fact the very word fascinates me. It resounds with great historical significance-walls! OH! No not the Great Wall of China! Nor the Berlin Wall but my historical wall was the cute little two feet highred bricked structure, that stretched straight across from our main gate to the backside of our house, easily climbable easily crossable and utterly comfortable to sit on in the lazy summer afternoons and sometimes so early in the day, but on a holiday; yes that was My Wall..'
Huge lofty shady trees grew in the spacious grounds around the house which was built like a fairy tale cottage and of course a few trees grew alongside this wall ,providing soothing cool shade and shelter.

            Memories of childish conversations, greetings. Quick chats and funny exchanges over it, are still fresh in my mind.

Where is she? My mother would ask worriedly Oh she must be on the wall" and so it was in full view of the house.Mother would be satisfied and I would lean against the dark rough bark of the nearest tree, pull a leaf and roll it into a tiny blow pipe( I learnt how to make one from my friends brother) he was a serious looking person and often I would feel afraid when he would appear in the verandah ; his eyes seemed to be fixed on us.

            Nature was so near and dear to us the freshness of the green leaves is still vivid and I can hear the pip peep pip peep of the tiny flute;

            My friend and I would sit for long hours or so it seemed ; talk and laugh; " Come to the wall again tomorrow, Nargis" My friend would say; we were never really frightened as we were always close to the main house.Our parents and elders could see us even from inside the house and we could see the whole wide world. The boundless sky changing colors from time to time, the birds gliding and swirling high above, thegently setting golden sun, and not forgetting the tiny ants that crawled harmlessly on our hands and feet, as if making us conscious  " Lo, its time to go home and study to finish the homework and then to bed" (There was no video monster or ET then)

            The small rather low wall was also our great Imaginary Express, sometimes chugging along and sometimes dashing and flashing by-

"Faster than fairies

Faster than witches

Past the hedges

Past the ditches"

It was exciting, passing through dark tunnels , crossing dangerous bridges and blowing the whistle; er..not the realone but across the thumb and forefinger, " Coo-oo, chhik chhik, chhik;" we never really knew the stations or stops , our junctions on our way – our little express would go on and on till it finally slowed down and came to a dead stop

            "good fences make good neighbours" Yes ! Our little fence was never a point of trouble " What is it that we are walling in or walling out when we build a wall?Nothing!

The whole world was clear as the wide open sky our wall was our astronomical observatory, I say our because I shared it with my sisters and neighbourly friends- during the late night hours in summer we would scan the twinkling sky " Theres the Great Bear, the Seven Stars and There's the Belt of Orion and Andromeda."  All these names, the bright Constellations and the Great Milky Way was our fantasy land at night.

   I would call my little wall a " Kingdom of Imagination and Delight of Enlightenment and joy" but it had its disturbing moments too, Once so engrossed in a story telling session that before we realized , the large dark swarm cast a pall over us.I remember screams and shrieks ensued, as we all ran- Locusts !

               They were locusts on the attack, hundreds of them and then they were everywhere- but thanks to the Almighty we were safe, this time inside different kinds of walls- the house walls which should be strong and supportive and so they were for long, till the locusts attack was over.

               When summer was over most of the fun would subside winters were usually cold and wet. My little kingdom would be silent for days, empty and lonely, bare but standing like a rock, with all its glory, its dark red colors, its majestic  castle like structure- like a fortress- enclosing the wonderful memories of peaceful times, sounds of giggles and endless laughter, a world of imagination which knew no limits.

   "Though wast not made to be broken, cos thou served a purpose of unity and friendship

      Thou hast thy music too"

               My wall was a bond which brought love and built our character, gave us strength and joy I wonder if my "Kingdom so small and yet so rich , so strong and yet so tender, so silent and yet so vociferous- is still there?????

   For a long time ago we left the cottage house for other places which were never the same-perhaps, times have changed   But I know the my "Wall" had no equal would never have one like it and I know that my wall was such that " to no one would it ever give offence!!!!!!".