Posted in Life and After, Nature

Breaking the Ice

For months, she hadn’t been stirred.

Suddenly, the ice broke with the unexpected weight and she screamed for help. Melting with the sun as spring approached was something a part of frozen river would accepted as fate. She would have lived a complete life by then. But breaking down early because someone mercilessly stepped on her weakness…that hurt.

So, she screamed for help. But all of them were on their own now as more cracks kept appearing–the stag that had stepped on her continued jumping neatly on the now-broken ice and crossed the river.

The river was now a jumble of fast moving pieces of ice running forward to meet the sea.

Most of them were simply resigned. She struggled against the flow, trying to return to her calm and composed existence, but there was nothing to hold on to.

Her fight was desperate and fruitless. Her screams were drowned in the gurgle of the river just like the few woohoos from others…

Woohoos?!

She turned around and saw another part of the river, clearly enjoying the ride. He had always been far away, closer to the bank. But now he was pushing her, shining with a twinkle. His playful smile dared her to try beating him at the game.

She pushed back and he laughed, pushing her again, tickling where they touched. Soon, they were both laughing as they pushed and touched and tickled and woohoo-ed down the river.

Not sure how far they reached before they melted but they certainly never stopped to notice.

Posted in Nature

My Neighbour: The Cocophonix

Author’s note: Last year, when we shifted to our new house, a welcoming party of six Jungle Babblers came for a visit. This is the tale straight from the horse’s mouth.


I was sitting on that wire when I realised the window was open…finally! I was so excited to meet the new neighbours, so, I just hopped on the ledge. And what did I see? All asleep!

Lazy bones!

It was 6 o’clock. My bretheren and I had been awake for the past two hours already–had breakfast and a flight across the river…

These city people must understand this is not how things work in our countryside.

But you can’t really go around delivering sermons to new people…the best way is to welcome them and then, politely, show them how things are done.

So, I decided to begin our association by giving them a song of welcome–the best way to introduce them to the delights of the early morning country music. I began with my favourite: The Aeroplane. My bretheren joined me as well.

It came out so wonderfully refreshing that the woman woke up right away, jumping to the window where I sat. Her eyes were wide and looked at the street in bewilderment. I was amused. She must be wondering where all that energy came from.

Smiling, I introduced myself. She looked me with her jaw dropped open. A fan already!

Her daughter was stirring, roused by sound of music.

I decided to give them a special piece that the child would surely love: The Chainsaw. I started with the highest notes I could pick, followed by my bretheren.

The child stirred further and the mother said something–I couldn’t really hear her over our music. But she was flapping her wings. These humans have never really learnt to use their wings but I could see my music was making her wish she could fly. So I added more vigour, urging my brothers to give it their best.

Alas, humans are unpredictable like cloudy skies. You never know what they would do next. The woman swung a broom at me!

Now, I don’t want to hurt anyone’s sentiments. I would have accepted a rose but broom is certainly not my style. Firstly, they are too heavy. Secondly, so many twigs of the broom wouldn’t have fit into my nest.

I tried to continue singing but when the broom came too close, I decided it was time to say a rushed goodbye.

After that I tried a few more times of different occasions but with the same results. After the fifth time she offered the broom, I decided it was better to keep my distance.

I think I have hurt her feelings . But I really can’t go building another nest for every fan! What would my wife think?

Posted in Love, Nature

My Neighbour: The Earnest

Author’s note: This post is based on a real incident…well, more or less. I was looking out of the window and witnessed what looked like a clear case of eve-teasing. I am just trying to look at it from the victim’s perspective.


Jeez! How many times do I have to say ‘No’ for someone to understand it? Here I am pecking quietly on the tin shed, eating the grains supplied by the human working below, when this jerk flies down and lands close to me.

So, I think, “Oh! He wants to share”. I move aside and make space for him.

And what does he do? He scoots closer…so close, I can smell the enticing smell of peppermint leaves on his breath.

So, I move further away. And his trots closer.

Sheesh! I jump on the closest low wall, and he follows like he is stitched to my shadow.

I run on the wall, and he follows calling after me, “Hey! Wait up. You are too fast! I can’t keep up!”

I am like, “Dude! That is precisely the point. I don’t want you to keep up with me.”

And he’s like, “Huh?” And he flies and lands too close yet again.

What the heck! Can’t he just go and eat some wheat grains, groom his feathers or sleep on a rooftop somewhere else…far, far away? I can’t be caught talking to him. I’ll be a laughingstock for a lifetime! So, I take flight this time. And he stupidly chases me in the air!

Can’t he see I am not interested? There are better things to do in life than date a stupid pigeon who goes by the name “Rapunzel”! I mean, what woman would ever want to date a guy named Rapunzel!?

I don’t want to be mean, but he leaves me no choice. So, I sit down on a stone archway to the next-door temple and say what sounds like the greatest cuss words ever known to the pigeon-kind, “Rapunzel! Go away!”

He sits a little farther this time, “Not you too! I am NOT Rapunzel!”

“What do you think I am–a chick-just-hatched? I have heard that human girl call you ‘Rapunzel’ at least a dozen times.”

“How do you know that? Have you been keeping tabs on me?” He asks, looking smug.

“I am not keeping tabs on you,” I hope I am not blushing like stupid human girls. “I live here. I hear things.”

“Well, then you know that she calls all pigeons ‘Rapunzel’.”

“Liar!”

“Well, I am a bit wrong there. If you sit on her windowsill in a group, she will probably call you Rapunzel and the rest of the group will be Ella, Snow White, Elsa, Bella and other Disney princesses in that exact order. She can’t tell that some of us are Prince Charming!”

I am intrigued now, “Are you ‘Prince Charming’ then? I mean, it is nearly just as bad!”

“Ugh! No! I don’t have a name. You can just call me ‘Hulk’!”

Eww! “I think, I’ll pass.”

“So, will you come out with me? I know a really cool place with loads of fresh grain and an amazing view of the river,” he says as he carefully moves closer to me on the top of the stone archway, looking a little unsure of himself this time.

Good! I like him better when he is not being haughty…

I mean, I don’t really like him like that…

Well, at least not yet

Sigh! Who am I kidding? I have been keeping tabs on him…

Still, I roll my eyes, trying to play hard to get, “You really don’t know when to give up!”

He has probably sensed I am giving up, because he stands up a little taller, “I know exactly when to give up, which is why I am not giving up on you yet.” He tilts his face to a side inquisitively, which makes his neck shine in a multitude of colours. “So, are you coming with me before all the fresh grain is gone?”

“Well, lead the way. I will probably dump you after we have eaten anyway, Rapunzel!” He rolls his eyes and smiles, and we take off to the nearest fields I have already visited alone this morning.

I know it will be better with him by my side, smelling minty and looking like Prince Charming. But I am not telling him that. At least, not yet!


Author’s note again: To learn more about how my daughter named Rapunzel (poor dear), you can go through my other posts here: Meet Rapunzel and Rapunzel 2.0

Posted in Nature, Random Thoughts

Recycled memories

In my family, I am famous for recycling. No cardboard box that ever passed my path and lived to tell the tale. Since furniture is so pricey now a days that you need to sell the house to buy a wardrobe, my family doesn’t complain when I steal their cardboard boxes to build racks and other storage areas.

I started when my child was two by building a Playhouse out of the cardboard box that once covered our new fridge.

Next year, I repapered it in bright pink and it became the famous Playschool where my daughter scribbled her famous first word–ZYXWVUTSRQPONMLKJIHGFEDCBA–several times over. She had also created her first fish (without fins), first caterpillar, first cat with two legs and her brood of kittens lacking in limbs at various degrees, playing with a limbless monkey. You can see them on my previous post about minimalistic approach to painting.

Later the building was used as a stable where her rocking horse was housed.

After that I created a couple of shoe racks (that are not worth seeing anymore because they couldn’t take the weight of the shoes).

A couple of years back I created what you can loosely call as the dresser cabinet (top). And last year when my daughter started school and her books were everywhere, I built her a bookshelf (bottom).

Initially it was sky blue, but my daughter took it in her hands to bring more colour to it and the result was…well, I should have just taken the picture and shared it with you. Let’s just say she went a little overboard with the sketch pens. She wouldn’t let me change the paper for how attached she was to that scribble. So, I had to wait an entire year until the paper was a little torn in the corners to get her permission to ‘take down her masterpiece’. Now, it is a sunny yellow, and I added lace, so she is satisfied that it is nice enough to be hers for now.

However, she has been threatening me with colours ever since. I have requested her to wait until I have acquired Acrylics so the painting is “even nicer with all the shiny shades”. It will give the poor thing another month or so before it becomes her next victim and I have to find another excuse to repaper it.

Since we are moving house soon and buying loads of new things, there will be loads of cardboard to go by. So, I am planning more recycled stuff–paintings, wall hangings, shelfs, one privacy wall for my office work and other tidbits to add to our living space while avoiding cutting down any trees.

Wish me luck!

Posted in Nature

Eternal

Billions

of stars

twisted in braids,

swirling in eternal dance,

Heavens!


Author’s note: Lantern is a Japanese form of poetry with 1, 2, 3, 4, 1 syllables set to share a single thought.

Posted in Life and After, Nature

Roots

Once again, it is time to pull our roots and move on. A sense of dรฉjร  vu grips me as I plan where to go and how to go unnoticed. It is even more difficult now than the last time. As per the Vampires, we will need to take the back roads to avoid being seen or captured on the numerous cameras that dot the main roads. If it was just me, I wouldnโ€™t have bothered. Once you have lived for a thousand years, you lose the wish to struggle for life. But there are young ones to consider. They were not around the last time, and I wouldnโ€™t wish them to have the same memories we elders doโ€”nightmares, I would call them.

It is difficult to believe that it has been four hundred years already. We were living in that quiet forest for thousands of years. The peace had made us complacent, and we hadnโ€™t bothered to keep up with the world. Otherwise, we would have noticed when the river nymphs shunned the dirty waters and when the dead fishes started washing ashore. We were lulled into a false sense of safety, only to be rudely awakened by the sounds of horse carts.

There had been no warning, nor a declaration of warโ€”they just fell on us with saws and axes. It was a massacre. They had picked the strongest and tallest of us first as we stayed limp in our places, still waking from our deep slumber. We were all stuck–our root had grown too deep, and our stems and branches were unmoving by the long disuse. It took us hours to get feeling in our roots, shake the soil around our feet and get away in the dead of night. We neither had the numbers nor the strength to retaliate.

The humans must have wondered where all the trees had all gone while they slept.   

So many of us had died that night. Many others were gravely injured not capable of moving. We had to leave them behind to be chopped to pieces the next day. That day is still branded on our hearts for eternity. It took us decades to settle down in this new place; to start a life without fear; to stop waking up waving our branches like lunatics, fighting unseen enemies.

No, I wouldnโ€™t impose those memories on our saplings. I wouldnโ€™t be caught napping again.

As per what the birds have told, the humans plan to cut down and flatten this space where we live–they plan to build living spaces for their never-ending progeny. Well, they can take the land, but they wouldnโ€™t touch us again. We can fight backโ€”we have been practicing on windy days, moving our branches around and pulling out our roots to kick. But it is pointless. Humans will keep coming back with reinforcements. It makes more sense to move away. We will leave tonight.

Yes, we will need to push the young saplings to moveโ€”they are too intelligent for their own good and too sassy to deal with. They are moaning about the new place and adjustments, quoting a thousand reasons for why they shouldnโ€™t leave, threatening us with tears. Well, they can cry and complain all they want once they are safe and alive.

The Vampires have offered to show us the way. These good people have always been our allies. They have been quiet neighbours who have slept hanging from our branches peacefully every day, leaving at night to eat and returning at dawn. Since they know their way around the city from their nightly hunts, it is easier for them to guide us than birds. The birds and squirrels will come with us, of course. They cannot let us leave with their nests and eggs and they cannot carry them elsewhere.

As the Vampires described them, the thought of the dark, smelly alleys infested by ghouls left me shivering. The narrow spaces with tall buildings on both sides will be a tight fit for most of us. Some of us may have scratches all over, others will have to leave branches behind. At least, we will liveโ€”if we make it to the end undetected, of course.

Because ghouls wouldnโ€™t let us pass easily. We have denied them living space for far too long. But we could not associate with someone who moans all night, throwing things around and being a pestโ€”there wouldnโ€™t have been any sleep at all. So, of course, they will see this moment as a chance to vindicate themselves. They would probably fill our way and throw things around to create noise. Thankfully, the Vampires have promised to stand on our side adding to our numbers if the ghouls pose a problem. Together, we might win without fighting, which is imperative to our survival.

Because fighting will ensue noise and if the humans wake up and look out of the window, they will find an entire redwood forest standing on their backroad. There will be hell to pay! 

So, we must go quietly. There is a โ€œnature reserveโ€ that the Vampires have told us about. They say that humans do not touch the trees over thereโ€”something about the law protecting the โ€œnatureโ€. It will be sad to lose the company of the Vampires eventually, though. They will have to return to the city and find new accommodations. The poor beings cannot survive too far from their habitatโ€”as their sole source of food, an abundance of human populace is a must for their survival.

Also, they donโ€™t fare too well around Fairies that apparently infest this nature reserve. I can already feel the little pests crawling up on my body, making home on my toadstools and throwing raucous parties all night. There will be no sleep.

Sigh! It will be a new territory and we will have to forge new alliances. Well, we will cross that bridge once weโ€™re there. For now, we can just hope to survive.

Posted in Nature

My Neighbour: The Adventurer

To call me an adventurer would be an overkill. I am just your regular guy who loves lying in the sun on a free day. But these busy bodies I have as neighbours…

Well, let’s just say they just don’t appreciate the art of doing nothing.

Here I was, minding my own business, lying on this metal contraption my neighbours had brought in recently. The white tyre cover is irresistible and I was lying down on the surface warmed by the sun earlier that day. The neighbour, of course, was infinitely jealous by my comfort and switched on the front light.

Not easily rattled, I paid him no mind. But then, there were the moths on the front light!

I mean, who in the world could resist these delicacies? So, I moved up and made a snatch for one of them but before I could catch it, the moron started the dratted machine.

And I was flying!

I was racing through the roads at a reckless speed that reminded me of the time when that Eagle picked me and cousin Gill from the white wall. Gill didn’t make it. I had to leave my tail behind.

The thought made me sick…

All the while, I was clutching the damned light with all I had, praying to the God of all Lizards to make this stupid contraption stop. These kind of things should come with a disclaimer–a large yellow banner saying, “Stay Away! It Moves!”

Why couldn’t this guy tell me that it moves? Or at least he could have asked me to move before he started it. I always knew that humans were not friendly to our lizard-kind but discourteous too?

Humph! Well, finally it stopped and stayed put for a while.

It wasn’t a bad place. Seemed like a feast was going on around several lights–loads of insects and lizard brethren about the place. Very nice people. Adjusting too. Shared the spoils with me and everything. I even met a girl I really liked–lush curves and a tail with a really unique pattern. I think she got it done at a shop. It suits her.

I wanted to stay but I couldn’t for long, though. The guy was already moving towards the bike. This new girl told me the name of the metal contraption. She thought I was really brave to ride that metal monster! I wish I could stay!

But I hadn’t told mom I was travelling and she would be worried out of her mind, especially after cousin Gill. So, when the guy started leaving on the metal contraption, I hitched a ride again, willingly this time.

As the wind swept over my face when I wasn’t in shock, the whole thing felt mighty fun. May be, the whole “art of doing nothing” was overrated. May be, I will hitch a ride again tomorrow and come back for that girl…

Mom wouldn’t be pleased though.

But who cares?!

Posted in Random Thoughts

In the Azure Skies

Glowing,

the new bride,

walks in her golden gown,

hands shaking, trembling inside, holding head high.

Sweeping

golden train behind

warms cold earth and hearts,

bringing hope with new beginnings, fresh starts.

Walking

through azure sky,

she meets her forever love,

waiting on the horizon, dressed in white.

Blushing

she stands alongside.

Birds sing the wedding vows.

Moon kisses Day. She swoons, come night.

Posted in Nature

Young Morning

Face red, arms wide,

sun jumps in the lap of sky–

dew tears forgotten.

chirping and chatting,

pushing back the white

swaddles of cotton

covering her dainty pink feet–

as the world rises yet again

to their princess greet.

Posted in Nature

My Neighbour: The Single

I lay there alone sighing, hearing the two of them in the next room showing off their newest bed cover–chatting around obnoxiously happy. Unfortunately, that particular cover comes only for double beds. I, however, am still single.

I hate being single! Being the only one in the room sucks!

Well, to be honest, I am not exactly alone here…

There is this metal almirah who is really cold. Her nose is so high up in the air, I wonder if she lives on Ozone rather than Oxygen. She thinks of us wood-forms as far beneath her status. It doesn’t even creak when you ask a question. Just the swish of the key and click of the lock when the humans open and close it–not even an opening groan that steel almirah’s are so famous of making.

Not that I am prejudiced against all metal-forms–the chair is nice enough. It must be the soft seat and comfy backrest that put her at ease.

The study table is friendly–all wooden, nice and warm. He often bumps into me since he is my immediate neighbour.

But they are both together–the table and the chair. And I really can’t deal with how they behave all lovey-dovey and keep trying to touch each other every now and then.

Then there is this tiny side-table who sits on my other side and keeps chattering all day. The number of times it opens its drawers! I’ve never seen such a chatter-box–stating random facts about the pigeons and butterflies out of the window and singing nursery rhymes with birds. Sounds cute for a short time. But, admit it, it does get a little over much after a couple of hours, at least for a bachelor like me.

Sigh! So, well, I am not really alone, but it is not the same thing as having someone who is with you. Being single sucks!