The Terrace
that Beckons (This article is dedicated to those amongst us from the immigrant generation who have spent their childhood years in Indian cities with terraces as playgrounds and neighbors who are like family)
Lin Thomas
smaller residential buildings, tree tops with expansive foliage in various hues of green. The coconut trees swayed with the light breeze. And finally on the south side of the building, the pinnacle of all sights greeted me. A sight that remains fresh after all these years. The endless pristine blue, green aquamarine waters of the I hummed a Bollywood tune as I galloped through Indian Ocean. The sea gulls cawed in a distance. On a the flight of stairs that led up to the terrace above my quiet night, you could even hear the distant sounds of the apartment floor. It was the perfect place to finish my 6th high tide waves striking the rocks that lined the beach. grade Science homework on a quiet afternoon. With my I walked towards the south end of the terrace and peered notebook, blue ink-pen and heavy text book in hand I across the terrace wall to the balcony of Mrs. George hopped through the entrance door. A gust of fresh cool below. Her neat array of red and pink roses smiled breeze greeted me enthusiastically as I inhaled deeply. cheerfully. I go back to my books and squat on the This was several years ago when I lived at an apartment smooth floor. It was a peaceful environment conducive complex in Goa,India. I walk through the covered to studying. The background sounds blended together. entrance of the terrace which had with mosaic tiles in The occasional gentle hum of the elevator, the wind hues of chocolate, beige, cream and saffron. At seven that blew noisily at times and the cawing of the crow stories high, our building was one of the tallest in the perched above the lamppost, all added to the serenity. neighborhood. It was almost 5 PM now and I was done with my I looked around to see if I had company. It seemed homework. The terrace would soon transform from a like I was alone. I plopped my hard-cover books on peaceful locale to one bursting with liveliness. The little the mosaic tiles. Before delving into my homework, I kids would soon be ready to play.I pick up my belongings decided to feast on the sight around me. Straight ahead to return home.Adelicious aroma of chickpea flour lay miles and miles of houses that lined the hilly area in dipped fried onions and potatoes known as Bhajis starts front of me. It would take at least half an hour to get to emanating from my neighbor’s home. Few minutes later, one of the homes but it seemed so close from this side. my 8-year-old neighbor knocks our open door. She hands To my left, in a distance lay the downtown area. The me a plate of the delicious bhajis. busy scene of ancient landmark churches with Portuguese A little later, my 6 year old sister and her friends gather and architecture, modern buildings, cars, buses, autorace excitedly to the terrace. An hour later I return to the rickshaws, bicyclists, and scooters greeted me. The terrace to hang out with the older kids and teenagers.We vehicles traversing to our neighborhood honked with talk, laugh, gossip and sometimes just enjoy the scenery. zeal. To my right, it was quieter with acres of homes, Kerala Association of Greater Washington
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