How time flies and how life slips through. . .
It is like sand simply flowing.
Almost a year ago, I start to write and lack of facilities and sometimes the zest missing, I did not continue narrating.
So here goes, as of today, what life reviewed through the aging mind and tired sunken eyes, I look around and recall what I intended to write about in my previous post.
Memory goes as back to those days at Pani Pat Road. The clean and well maintained streets of Ngara and particularly our lane where the residents prided in being a part of the "elites" and many owned huge cars and houses. Perhaps of the business class people and perhaps by some chance of nature, my mum managed to get a room to rent. I do not remember the move from Eastleigh to Ngara, perhaps I was just born then, but I do recall the little room where we all crammed up during our early childhood days. I believe that it was meant to be a kitchen, but the landlady had rented it to my mother.
So that beautiful place with a two huge trees in the compound, and cemented seats on the sides of each door leading to the rooms. I remember the hindu neighbors who left soon after we moved in. The stairs leading to the floor upstairs where we were allocated a toilet. There was no bathroom for us. The landlady and her sons and their families lived upstairs.
And I remember how we had to fill the huge water 'drum' with a pipe each time it exhausted.
