fragrance

I am on my way to work. Morning sun greets me.
There is quite some activity amongst the leafless trees. The birds are chirping loudly, as if to wake up the trees, from a long sleep. There is a certain freshness in the air.
A sudden fragrance hits my nose; Familiar. A ride on the wings of memory, back to a home far away in Ujjain, India, where it's early morning. I enter the kitchen, mother is preparing breakfast. She has opened one of the four windows to let the morning air in.
Rest of the windows remain closed; to maintain a certain privacy.
"Maa, dekho Dargaah se kitni acchi khusboo aa rahi hai".
Mother see, such a good fragrance comes from the Dargaah (A fakir is buried here).
"Haan, Kabhi kabhi aati hai. Tu yahan baith kar padh".
"Yes, Sometimes it comes. You sit here and study".
Mother becomes busy again in the kitchen; in a while we will have poha and chai.
I look outside, brown and green trees fill my vision; not far away is the Dargaah, surrounded in greenery.
Bound. Back. The Bound has come. It will take me to the Bolt stop. Bound, Bolt, Jump, Skip, Hop are bus names here.
I take a deep breath, and step in.