A little mynah, a fallen tree, a tiny sparrow – Santosh Bakaya’s morning brightens up with birds chirping, clouds gurgling and the wind going about its business.
Enjoy Morning Meanderings Season 2 with your hot cuppa and cookies. ☕🍪😊
When I stepped out of the house for my morning walk everything seemed to be fine with the world. The sun was peeking through the clouds, a trinity of canine chums, cuddled congenially, and a cat lounged in feline grace next to the wall fronting our house, along which, squirrels raced with a lot of spunk. The birds, as usual were at their talkative best.
My attention was rivetted by the profusion of wild plants everywhere, especially one which glowed with delusions of a fresh, vibrant lily. The magnanimous rains had given them a new attire of bright, refreshing green.
Amongst this greenery flitted a yellow dotted butterfly with the panache of a fairy out on a date with the wild flowers. The flower which was deluded into the belief that it was a lily, shimmered the brightest, winking and blinking and making eyes at the butterfly.
I realised that for butterflies, there is no discrimination among flowers, they shower the same love on daffodils, orchids and lilies as on the unassuming wild flowers. My heart was warmed by the love affair going on between the wildflower and the butterfly. It was the very essence of goodness. The wild flower glowed more and more like a vibrant lily under the butterfly’s loving attention.
When all of a sudden things changed .
I heard a short snarling laugh. What was the source, I wondered, looking around frantically. I could see no one around. There was another. A rumbling guffaw this time, and this time I knew the source.
It was coming from up above me. The clouds seemed to be roaring and laughing in untrammeled glee, racked with sinister intentions. The wind was tearing in fitful gusts through the branches sloughing ominous, horror tunes. Suddenly, the branches of the trees started swaying restlessly, the wind skirled and whistled.
Then there was a splitting crash, I shuddered. Just a few feet away from me, a tree had come crashing down. Had I not stopped to ‘stand and stare’, at the beautiful butterfly flitting amongst the wild plants, I am sure, I would have been definitely crushed under the huge tree.
I noticed something fluttering in a tight tangle of forked branches. Taking cautious steps forward, lest another tree came crashing down, I went towards the fallen tree and was aghast to see a mynah caught in the bushes.
Very tenderly, I untangled it from the branches, and was happy to see that it was unharmed. It flew away but came back, swooped down near my feet and looked up at me .
I would like to believe that the gleam in its eyes was a gleam of gratitude. But then the sun was also up, maybe it was the reflection of the sunrays in the mynah’ s eyes that made them gleam.
Now the mynah was sitting atop the telephone wire, with its kith and kin, chirping away, happy at its freedom.
The mynah’s meanderings reminded me of the nursery rhyme:
Eeny, meeny, “mynah”, moe
Catch a tiger by the toe
If he hollers let him go
It is another matter that catching a tiger by the toe is easier said than done. Not that I have tried it. I’d rather rescue a mynah for it won’t “holler”.
A puffed-out petrified looking sparrow was hopping around, angry at the tumult of the wind and the devastation that it had caused. Then it fell into a string of harsh chirps. It was as if it was scolding the wind for its violent behaviour.
The sparrow’ s scolding had the desired effect. The belligerent wind tapered down to a weary screech, a trifle grumpy at the failure of its malevolent intentions. The sun smiled kindly, and I would like to believe that it was happy at my tiny good deed of the morning.
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