Sick, holed up in my room and drowsy with meds, I started to doze off in the heat of the summer afternoon. Suspended in that blissful state in between waking and dreaming, my mind began to conjure sensations that weren't actually present.
A delicious breeze blew over me, bringing with it the smell of the ocean. Then came the music of rustling leaves, so I envisioned the mango, santol, langka, kamias and aratilis trees in our yard dancing and swaying with the wind. I heard the typical background noise of my childhood afternoon siestas long ago--the sound of the walis tingting as Mama sweeped the fallen dried leaves from the grounds outside, around the house.
I settled into a light and peaceful nap, lulled by the old familiar comforts of home. From a far-off crevice in my mind, I am aware that these are mere delusions, designed by my brain to bring me solace. But for the moment, I am happy and at peace.
Never mind that the sea breeze is actually just hot air issuing forth from my floor fan, and that the rustling of leaves are just sounds made by the neighbor's laundrywoman who was presently washing their clothes with vigor. Mama is not here either, but instead some unknown woman is sweeping the pavement downstairs with her walis tingting.
I wanted to hold on to the fleeting moment for just a while longer, but it faded as swiftly as it came. I emerged from my stupor and begrudgingly let go of this sweet glimpse of a fragment of home that I knew I will always carry with me in my mind's eye.
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| Home is where the heart is. |
*To welcome the summer, this is a throwback from the previous year. I was feeling the same horrible homesickness that I always get whenever it's the beach season.
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