February ...the month in which the palash trees bloom.

We used to have one right outside our house in bombay , and each year around my birthday it would be ablaze, a riot of red.
And as years pass, you forget the little trivial incidents, perhaps pack them up/put them away in small boxes in ur memory, making space for the new ones.

My dad says nothing goes waste, your mind forgets nothing
Everything you have ever seen, heard , tasted, smelt or felt becomes a part of you.
Its is you who forgets that you own them.

Whenever my parents are visiting, they draw the curtains aside from the window in my bedroom, at 6am.
Ma says, see how lovely the sky looks, switch of ur bedside lamp.
And I keep wondering how I never miss this soft early morning sunlight, the rest of the year.

A few seconds ago I was walking past the open window and I saw a palash tree I never knew existed...
next to the house in the paralell lane...full bloom.Without its flowers I could have never recognised it.
And then I remembered, it was still february.