Balcony 'Bagicha'

                                      

After being deprived of one for almost over three years, I finally have a balcony to me now! But only that, it’s not called a balcony anymore! They decided to enclose the balconies or patios (the more acceptable term here) in this part of the world, and call it a ‘Lanai.’

When the property guy was showing us around the apartment, he would keep referring to it with the aforementioned complicated name, and it would bamboozle me every single time! To me, balcony was a priority, and hence it needed addressing first, ‘wait, but, does it have a balcony?’, I would go, after every two line he would have uttered. This frequent intervention would be met with puckering of face, in an attempt to gauge me I suppose, to understand whether I am hard of hearing, distracted, or just plain stupid! Jumping to save the situation husband would go, ‘you know, we are so used to calling it a balcony, this word escapes us.’ At this point my face would go through different shades of pink - pale, blush, crimson.

When we were in Buffalo, a balcony was the last thing we would keep in our apartment must-have list. When most months were spent imagining about the possibilities of the short-lived summer, the presence or absence of a balcony hardly accounted for anything. The two apartments we called home there, didn't have a porch or a balcony. Missing not having one was quite out of question, simply because one would never know what to do with it except to watch snow turn to icicles on the roof covering it.

The other extreme end was Qatar. We lived in three different apartments during our stay of four years in that small country. And all of those apartments had fairly spacious and pretty balconies. The first one, on a raised ground floor, opened to a view of barren land that stretched on tirelessly, till it hit the main road. A mosque stood at its end. So the morning and evening prayers from the mosque seamlessly blended into our daily routine. The evening prayers particularly would send within me an urge to sweep aside the curtains, slide the glass doors, to soak up the residue of a melting sun that would have done its job more than perfectly. But unfortunately, on most days, a warm gust of wind would instantly fill up my nostrils first, and then the climate controlled rooms.

Despite the unpleasant climate in the deserts, the delicate curve of the balcony railing, and its smooth cold tile, would tempt me to toy with the idea of a small potted plant garden. But crazy temperatures always made me wonder if the effort would be worth it. The climate, besides my limited skills with gardening, always came in the way of turning me into an active agent of change. Sometime later when this thought was happily forgotten like many other ideas that never saw the light of the day, I saw images of an enviable harvest of vegetables by a couple living close to us. They had laboriously toiled on their backyard for months! The vigor and growth of the homegrown veggies made me wonder whether I was too quick to toss the idea before trying it once. But it was too late to act upon the thought. Other than some indoor plants, picked at a whim at a local nursery, I had never bothered growing anything outside. Hence Qatar balcony bagicha chapter accepted its defeat too easily, and too quickly I suppose.

Delhi balcony experience was a special one. The DDA flat in Vasant Kunj where we moved in after marriage - our first home - had a living room that opened to a balcony that would bring the warm sun during the merciless Delhi winters.  And thick layers of curtains would cover its glass doors during the torturous heat of the summer days. Besides, this balcony was a spacious one, where we placed our shoe rack, a rack at the other end housed knick-knacks that didn't find a respectable place inside. Line of colorful ropes to hang clothes from zig-zagged over our heads. These ropes would dangle above us as we would stretch for a pair of shoe or socks gone missing without a trace in the cluttered mayhem. Thick layers of dust never ceased to coat these disparate items of our household that were there, just because throwing them didn't seem like the right thing to do.

That balcony attracted all kinds of creatures to make home inside its comfort. Once I had spotted a pigeon nest deep inside our shoe rack, two dotted eggs precariously cozying up inside it. My instincts said, bring it out in full view and place it somewhere it wouldn’t come in the way of our busy lives. My mom, however thought otherwise, and at once ordered me to restore it to its original place. Couple of days later, while reaching out for something, I noticed the eggs broken, and the insides splattered all over our shoes. That day after coming back from work, I got down to cleaning the shoe rack and tidied it up with a cover that wouldn't allow any nesting business of any sorts by any creature, aviary or otherwise, and hence no future mishaps like this one.

Sundays used to be the official laundry day back in those days. We owned a semi-automatic washer then, and dryer was quite out of means, that should explain the ropes and hooks in the balcony! Utility was the mantra. Besides, there was practically no time to flirt with the idea of setting-up a nook to sit and watch the world go by. Hence on Sundays, the balcony would turn into a mini dhobighaat of sorts that I would have done anything to avoid, but I did not quite have an option! And boy! The way this same balcony would transform into the ‘newly resurrected holy place’ for a Rangoli during my favorite festival - Diwali.

Now here in Tampa, I have come across enviable balcony scenes that give me major balcony goals. I had done the usual bit of looking up for tips and do’s and dont's  on the subject. But what I found struggling with was to figure out my type. What kind of setting am I looking for? What purpose should this area serve? Casual, chic, boho, or traditional, or what? I know, I know, first world problems galore! But hey, I just want this done right, and hence all the sweating. With all these confusions that still exist, and with a Lanai, that at best can be described as a ‘work-in-progress (looks like for eternity), I am willing to wait for inspiration to struck at some point. Current state of my balcony defies definition. There’s lot going on there, yet there’s nothing! Most plants are in their nascent stage, and hence the joke in the house is that they will flower or fruit eventually when our girl heads to college! Such is the eagerness to see them grow. The balcony chairs we originally had in mind turned out too big for the space. Therefore, currently I ease my bum on our beach chairs, first used for an outdoor movie screening.Talk about versatility!

Reluctantly leaving you with a picture of my Lanai, because I like saying it with pictures as much with words. This, with the promise that some masks I have lying around in the house, will be dutifully put up on the painful blank spot. Together with the husband, I have considered faux grass for the floor, now all we need is some motivation. I am happy to report that I have planted chilies, garlic, mint, cilantro and spring onions in pots. This humble beginning at being kitchen-herb-self-sufficient motivated me to get seeds of pansies, California poppies and moss rose the other day to try my luck with flowers. I know these will grow roots in a while, only if I could grow some patience alongside. Because I can’t be losing my mind over checking them every morning like some miracle is about to happen and I might miss! But the process of watching something grow is exhilarating, I must say. I have hung some string lights for a whimsical feel in the evening hours, I think this should declare that I have officially moved on from the 'rope' days of Delhi. 

Anyway, here’s hoping that this hobby grows into a passion slowly, and that, I have finally found my green thumb that I had long concluded I did not possess.

Happy gardening then folks, happy spring-ing, and happy basking under a beauteous sun amidst nature’s bounty and its mysteries.