Nasrin Sobhan

The universal dream of Paradise is a garden, nourished by crystal-clear waters. The garden of Jannat, with the waters of Salsabil and Tasneem; the Biblical garden of Eden, and the mythical Elysian fields are all havens of peace, with channels of flowing water,

When a new year begins, most of us try to sort through and organise all the detritus of earlier years, and start afresh with tidier cupboards, and neater desks. It can be an interesting task, because we come across things long forgotten, or thrown aside, to be looked at another time. Sometimes, we find really special things, long forgotten, but important.

There are few things as all-encompassingly comfortable as a large soft warm bed. Nestled in soft sheets, with fluffy pillows cradling my head, and the gentle weight of the quilt over me, I feel I need nothing more.

“Oh! This is so you. What a wonderful colour! You have to buy this right away,” says one lady to another.

I saw a picture the other day. It was just a picture of a simple green shrub; but there, in the centre, glowing like a jewel, was one perfect coral pink heart-shaped leaf.

Morning, with its first pale pearling of the sky, its slow shading into pink and coral, and its final blossoming into gold, is a never-ending miracle.

According to an old wives' tale, the story goes that if, on a certain midsummer night, you light two candles and gaze deeply into your mirror, the face of your true love will be revealed to you.

This morning, I looked out of my window and saw a face I had not seen for some time. It was the neighbourhood cobbler, seated cross-legged at his usual place on the pavement across the street, working away at some shoes.

Large, expensive wedding cards have begun to arrive; lettered in silver and gold, with tassels, fringes and ornate scrolling as well as boxes of delicious sweets! Our fourth favourite season is on its way.

If, in the course of your daily rounds, you see people with serene, smiling faces enjoying a cup of coffee and a doughnut in one of our many coffee shops, in the middle of a weekday morning, or sitting in deep chairs at a club, reading the papers, or eating ice cream near a swimming pool, you will know that they are RETIRED, or SEMI-RETIRED.

The other day, I ran across an old friend, a charming elderly gentleman, who is well known for his charm and impeccable manners. I happened to ask him about his aches and pains. "Oh, there are so many that if we start talking about them, it will take all day," he said, waving it away with a smile.

We never know what the future holds. To my mind that is one of the charms of life. For instance, when my husband was in the foreign service, while I loved every posting we had, I could not help looking forward to the next place we would go to, and the new experiences we were bound to have.

I had never met the couple or their parents before, nor did I think I would again, thankfully. This is a new world in many ways, and I find that there are more and more young people like this.

The evening draws in quickly. At one moment the late afternoon sun is there, mellow orange against the sky, and the next minute it is almost twilight, and time for me to leave my rooftop plants and flowers, and return to my flat. As I take a last stroll around the jasmine, an aroma of warm ghee floats up from some nearby kitchen, and soon after, a long-forgotten and much loved familiar fragrance—the smell of curried chicken—as it was cooked in my mother's kitchen in olden days.

Every week, in some magazine or the other, there are enthusiastic pieces on some new miracle diet promising to transform us into our dream figures in a matter of weeks, or days even! There are dramatic pictures of 'before and after' and promises of a gorgeous new shape if we eat only bananas, or green peas, or whatever the latest studies claim will have said magical results.

The Young at Heart Someone else, not foreign and also past forty, said the opposite, which was that older people should put aside all

The streets of Dhaka being what they are, one has time to just look around and observe things from the car while waiting at traffic lights or while stuck in jams: hugely battered buses driven by what look like twelve-year old boys high on cough syrup; cheap cars; costly cars; and people going about their daily business.

I also liked doing housework, truthfully! In my mind the bending, lifting, cleaning and mopping made up for my reluctance to go to the gym. I even found washing dishes therapeutic, and I would find myself humming while I soaped and rinsed, admiring the rose sprigs on my saucers, or the blue border of a much-loved tea cup.

The months have flown by, and so did December, one of the loveliest months of the year. There is a crisp feel to the air, and the winter flowers have begun to show their blooms — dahlias, roses and all the other delicate flowers that cannot blossom in the heat.

We had arrived in Cairo on our first posting, and the Ambassador and family had come to tea. I had baked strawberry cake from what was supposed to be a full proof cake mix.