Traces of Twilight

Huh! The above-mentioned words sound strange. Not to me!
To trace these traces let me take an about turn and walk twenty years back, when a quarter rupee was equal to one twentieth of a kilo of "Palakova"* or "Dilli-pak"*.
Everyday Nisha & I waited for the twilight. Ours was a modest residential colony in the foothills of Tirumala Hills. Synonymous to silence were the evenings, which appeared darker in the shadows of huge coconut trees.

Insect choir took centersatge. And then we heard the soft tinkle of a bell followed by a softer voice calling out "Palakova".... before the next tinkle, we sisters were out in the porch. From the dark appeared a vendor carrying a huge rectangular plate on his head. The taste and the aroma of the sweet was never different. The vendor never spoke another word (he must not have .....otherwise I would have remembered). As far as I remember, it was Mom who generally paid him. He never asked for more. The quantity and the price was fixed.

And after this exchange he would silently slip into the dark. It was not that the street was poorly lit, instead it had white tube lights mounted on the electric poles erected at equal distances. But the ends of the street always seemed darker. On one side of the street flowed a small stream full of clear water, colourful pebbles, fishes and green algae and on the other were huge houses covered with lush green plants and trees.

Towards night we never heard of any activity other than rustle of bicycle tyres against the road. Similar was the experience with "Dilli Pak's" vendor. the only difference was that he had a cart that needed to be pushed, a lamp, a better ringing bell and a coconut sweet too.

The soft sounds which filled the twilight of my street are safe in the depth of hearts..... Nisha's & Mine ...... a wonderful sweet feeling......

Note: * - The milk cake and soan cake in its best form. A sweet typical of Tirupati.

I randomly picked these paintings from google images..