Flying solo
Seeing an article today morning about the vanishing bird of Delhi, my mind raced back to the memories of my childhood home, where a pair of sparrows would nest annually. Ours was a small house with a typical courtyard space in the middles and a tiny patch for gardening in the corner. Close to the storm drain connecting the terrace to the underground drainage network, was a small cavity in which a sparrow couple used to nest and raise their chirpy little babies. It used to be a beautiful sight, my grandmother would leave grains on the floor for them to pick but also be visibly upset when they would steal twigs from the broom. It used to be a cute quarrel, where she would get all fussy on lazy afternoons watching the hard working birds pick out twigs from household articles or break some of her lovely plants and she would tell them to be nice as if they were well trained dogs. All this while our little pup would be going to and fro through her long wavy grey hair trailing off the low cot on which she would be resting, like a little child among overhead strands of a willow tree.
She was old, her beautifully wrinkled face and dark chocolate skin was a visible reminder of the years she has seen, seasons she has passed and all the ups and downs of life she has survived with grace. We even had a beautiful big cage filled with colorful budgerigars and muniyas in my grandmother’s house. This was the woman, who taught me compassion. Each day while she fed her caged birds, she would also throw around millets in the courtyard for stray birds to feed on. She would tell me, “Bhagwaan ne humei humein humari kismat di, jisse hum inki kismat ka inko de sakein.”[Dear we aren’t blessed because of who we are. The almighty has blessed us so we may share our surplus with others]. Her simplicity was wrapped in such hermetic depth, that could not be grasped in one go. Looking at birds chirp around the verandah, I would wonder what exactly she had meant as I would toss my bread crumbs to the birds. My child brain would ponder, was I blessed with my jam sandwich so I could share the crumbs with these birds? Or did grandma want me to say grace before my first bite like she did. Shrugging my shoulders I would usually carry on with whatever penultimate important task my kid brain had on priority.
Going back to the article, and looking around the minimalistic urban living space I shared with my goldfish in a bowl, the only pet with minimum space need I could think of, I cannot help but wonder; She was kind without any expectations and loved animals as much as she loved humans. If only we could imbibe those values in time, alas the youth is wasted on those young. I see birds flying through the sky outside, they all fly solo, and here in the city there aren't many people like my grandma putting out water bowls and crumbs. Birds need space too, and not too much either. If only we could be kind and share those simple values, to love and live in harmony with nature. Living alone feels a lot like flying in the sky, a terrifying freedom with endless possibilities to explore. I love it and I live it, everyday.
Loved it!:)
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