The Peacock Dance – Recollections

The sudden wild cry of excitement startled me from my reverie. It was an unremarkable Sunday and I was occupied with the same inane activities that filled up most of my Sundays, the only difference this Sunday being the outburst of cry in the afternoon – an uncommon occurrence.

It had been a hot day, bright and blinding one’s eyes whoever ventured out. But as the day wore on, it had become resilient, showing signs of a blustery evening, promising thunder-squalls and copious rainfall. On such earlier occasions, hailstones the size of young, strong gooseberries had landed heavily on the time-worn, brittle clay tiles which sat on our roof-work of bamboo poles, shattering the tiles and making way for the heavenly liquid initially to drip at random and soon after in a continuous stringy...