Spice of life: Tale of unexpected guests with lesson in harmony

It was a slow evening. The breeze still carried the nip of the winter past, but the sun indulgently shone upon my garden, bestowing a secret promise of spring abound. I was revelling in watering my beloved plants when suddenly my eyes fell upon a novel addition to the green corner. It was a nest, dexterously woven with strands of twigs, grass, and feathers, sticking beneath a hanging plant basket. A sweet home within a home!

On closer observation, I found two tiny eyes looking out from within the small opening of the nest. The mother bird fluttered in and out, gently shoving grains of food into her little one’s mouth. Basking in my newfound discovery, I could not resist the urge to pry further. And lo and behold! The bird took flight; a pointed reminder about the perils of prying eyes, leaving me chastened in its wake. What’s cooking in my neighbour’s home should not be my concern. A lesson learnt hard but well.

On a serious note, these vignettes of nature inject vitality into life’s otherwise monotonous rut. We find solace in their presence, as they remind us to pause, observe, and appreciate life’s intricate tapestry. In epics, such as the Ramayana and Mahabharata, birds are depicted to be talking like human beings. As civilisation progressed, we became more self-centred, inadvertently severing our connection with nature. In our zealous spirit of competition and material success, we have come far off from our basic instincts.

Life constantly beckons us to our respective path of duties, akin to the endless task of pushing the boulder of Sisyphus up the mountain. Robert Frost has beautifully summed up the compulsions of life:

“The woods are lovely, dark and deep

But I have promises to keep

And miles to go before I sleep

And miles to go before I sleep.”

In this whirlwind of work and obligations, nature, with her pristine beauty, offers a gentle balm to our weary souls. Perhaps, amid the chaos, all that’s asked of us is to simply breathe, allowing time to unfurl its delicate petals and grant us the gift of tranquillity.

My tiny companions and their little nest are still intact, and each day we share a silent exchange through our gaze. I’m careful not to disturb them while watering the plants, keeping a respectful distance.

I’m reminded of Robert Frost again, when he writes, tongue-in cheek, “Good fences make good neighbours.” Of course, his intention was quite the opposite, suggesting that perhaps true harmony lies not in dividing lines, but in the willingness to connect. I’ve found that finding harmony, both with nature and within ourselves, is like tending to a delicate garden. Just as each flower needs its space to bloom, we thrive when we grant one another the room to grow and flourish. It’s a lesson I’ve learned time and again, echoed in the whispers of the wind and the gentle sway of the trees. kvt.singla@gmail.com

The writer is an associate professor of English, SA Jain PG College, Ambala City