Photo Guy Ackermans I always knew I would choose a thesis topic that was relevant to the city I’m from in South India. I’ve been here for a few weeks now, working on it. It’s funny how places become a part of you, I find myself thinking of Wageningen often. One of the first things I recall is the quiet, sometimes I really miss it. Especially in the summer when most people are away; the balmy air is heavy with the heat and silence.
Initially, it took a little getting used to because the city I’m from is incessantly noisy. Even on a quiet morning, in a residential area, I can hear a riot of bird sounds, at least one person sweeping up leaves, loud conversations, vegetable vendors, bells and traffic at a distance. It doesn’t just feel like you’re surrounded by sounds, but that the atmosphere around you is alive and has a personality of its own.
Now, temperatures are already touching the mid-thirties, but it’s not really summer until Ugadi. For many South-Indian communities, this is the New Year, and it signals the start of summer when the heat begins in earnest. Traditionally, a preparation of bevu bella is made. A few bitter neem leaves are added to a concoction that also contains sweet jaggery. Signifying the acceptance of all that is to pass – joy, bitterness and everything between.
It’s only for a few moments but it felt like an eerie echo of a summer afternoon in Wageningen
As far as I remember, we’re usually graced with a summer shower. The mood surrounding this rain is different from the rest. The heat of spring has built up to a point when you think you just can’t take it anymore. The air is heavy with anticipation. Above us, dark clouds gather silently, birds are in a flurry and people run to bring their laundry in. As children we would run outside excited for the puddles.
This year, I noticed something that I never had before. Just before the drops fall, everything stops. A surreal quiet envelops us. Like someone pushed pause on the world. It’s only for a few moments but it felt like an eerie echo of a summer afternoon in Wageningen. When it’s so very quiet that your thoughts feel loud. I was surprised to stumble across this connection between two places I love. Almost immediately, I also registered that soon it’s all I’ll have of Wageningen. These fleeting links. Windows to a life I once lived. A bittersweet realisation.
Ananya Doraswamy is a Master’s student in Communication, Health and Life Sciences from India. She delights in a slow-paced day that has plenty of time for cloud-watching and tree-gazing. She enjoys being in busy, multicultural kitchens that have plenty of food and stories to offer.
