When nature and humans dance together — it is a moment of unalloyed joy.
Enjoy Episode 12 of your favourite morning read with your morning coffee! ☕ Santosh Bakaya’s ever popular MM Season 3 makes your Sunday mornings extra special! ☀️📆 🎉
It is 5. 30 AM, and on the utmost bough of the neem tree fronting our house, I see big protruding eyes in a small, bloated body. The eyes are looking keenly at me. They continue looking at me. Maybe the owl is the shy sort, for it cannot retain eye contact for a beat longer and flutters away, only to perch on the next tree. Then, from the new tree, it becomes a bit talkative.
“Hoot! hoot” !says the owl. First slowly, then with greater vigour.
It is trying to catch my attention.
The dawn is dilly-dallying, so the owl thinks it is still night.
Suddenly, its ears prick up; it hears a few chirps and flutter of wings. A couple of sparrows are in intimate conversation on the tree. What are they twittering about?
Hoot hoot chirp, chirp — the surroundings resound. Not to be left behind, a phlegmatic pigeon also adds its lackluster yodels to the medley.
I see a young man heading towards the gym, humming a song, tightly gripping the shoulder straps of his backpack. Unbeknownst to him, a sparrow hops onto his backpack and breaks into song.
Soon, the dawn stops dithering, and there is light. The free rider is having a grand time, singing away. Soon its companion also joins it. Who says three is a crowd?
I find nothing wrong in breaking into a song, myself, adding my notes to the sparrow’s song.
‘The dawn opens its eyes a crack
To see two sparrows on a back pack.
It finds them cute
As they chirp and toot.
How it lauds their musical knack!’
Cows and calves are heading towards the fields to graze. On one of the trees sits a peacock looking at the world with a majestic nonchalance. Squawk Squawk, it says, taking a swooping flight down on the wall around a vacant plot of land.
I look around and am mesmerized by the luxuriant money plant in the neighbour’s balcony. It seems to have grown overnight. My eyes refuse to leave the verdant creeper, but then something catches my attention.
The peacock has flown down onto the vacant plot, and is dancing.
What a grand spectacle I am witness to! But then, I realise I am not the only one watching this spectacular display. From some hidden cranny, a peahen has materialised, and is furtively looking at the peacock.
I don’t want to intrude on these private moments, so I discreetly vanish from the scene, leaving them to their devices. I walk further, and turn back to find that the peacock is still dancing, and the peahen is gazing awe- struck.
This does not complete the scene. I watch amused, as two kids rush out from the fields behind, and join the peacock in its dance. They are probably from the village nearby. What unalloyed joy!
How I wish I were a painter and could paint that bewitching scene — a peacock dancing with two kids!
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