it rains. rather, it showers. day and night. never too strongly too long, never stops too long, that you forget that it might start again. the greens remain bright, forever glistening with fresh morning brightness. i can smell the pink flowers accross the garden, i can smell the cows tied accross the meadow. i can smell the trees and the bark, the smell of cooking from the back of the house. in the unhindered silence i can hear the kitchen help chat with amma. power flickers on and off, never lingering on for too long, always playful. in the night it is a game between sanyo emergency lamps, the torch, the inverter, the flurorescent lights, the TV and the buzzing household appliances all work in turns. it is still showering, like someone forgot to turn off the skies after the rain. tress envelop the house, greens assault the vision. it is ideallic, comfortable, timeless and intensly beautiful. they say you get tired of any surrounding after 15 minutes. maybe an overstatement, give me a day and i can still appreciate how pretty this place is. But i call it home, and by policy if you live in a beautiful place, its beauty cannot arrest.as i was riding down the state highway, on my way from Bangalore to this small town Kerala, i realised the place was so beautiful. No, not that i never knew it before, just that i had gone down to Coorg and commmented on how beautiful the place was, well on qualitative terms, it would be difficult to differentiate between the two. this place ranks pretty close. i just dint think of it that way. 'su' has this one line solution to most of mans maliases - the grass on the other side is greener, hm, maybe i can hear her saying this to me now.