376. Verandas

Blogging from A to Z
  Theme: Bringing Me Joy

In the United States they’re more commonly called porches. In India, though, and around much of the world, they are veranda(h)s—roofed, sometimes partly enclosed porches that extend from a house at the ground-floor level.

The word’s origin is disputed, but it comes to English from the Hindi varanda and other Indian languages and is also found in Portuguese and Spanish, so it is one of the many that entered the English language during the colonial era.

We have a hundred-year old New-England farmhouse with porches in front and back, but I prefer to call the front extension a veranda, because as soon as I set foot in it I breathe different air and seem to enter a different world altogether.

Situated on the north side of the house, it is a cool, peaceful place. A small sign reminds visitors to remove their shoes. Cane chairs and a comfy couch present themselves, evoking a slower past. Stress and striving fall away. The whir of ceiling fans shuts out the hum of traffic on the road outside and the workaday world recedes. A green shade; a homecoming.

Verandas of my youth were shady, protected spaces neither in nor out. Drinking water sat cooling in earthenware jugs on our back veranda, which looked out on an old hammock slung between two jamun trees.

While the veranda beckons, the workday ahead of me demands attention. I reluctantly bid it farewell, for now. But life is as it should be on the veranda. I intend to sit quietly there, alone or with friends, fans swishing slowly, through many a long, hot summer evening; the definition of happiness.

Not long now.

Tell Me Another (Contents to Date)

Chronological Table of Contents