A lookout for nature during the lockdown
The Covid-19 pandemic had brought with it many consequences: Social distancing, selfisolation and staying home. It magically brought with it a natural closeness to nature. In the humdrum life of the pre-pandemic days, the flora and fauna were a part of the living milieu but never a sensitive experience. With the stay-at-home conditions, the kaleidoscope of the twin spectacle of landscape, plants, flowers and trees on one side and different species of birds, squirrels on the other opened to the willing hearts without any ado. Nature’s beauty could be enjoyed day after day without any investment except enthusiasm and curiosity. There was no occasion now to complain in the style of poets of yore: What is life full of care, we have no time to stand and stare.
For the first time in years, I sat in the verandah facing a spacious lawn and three mango trees. From time to time, seasonal flowers made their presence felt, such as the chrysanthemum, dahlia, petunia and bushes like hisbiscus, rubber plant, dracaena, hardy green palms, cyperus, some from the lily family and a hedge on the boundary further bejewelled by creepers like, Quisqualis indica, bougainvillea, Bignonia venusta and Ipomea. The cacti and succulents, including sansevieria (motherin-law’s tongue), sat pretty beside potted flowers and bonsai, which are several years old. All this provided an ideal venue for birds in myriad colours to start visiting since early in the morning. Their presence reminds of the poetic observation: “Yeh jo har subeh roz baroz chahchauhate hain, in paridon ko na kal (yesterday) ki yaad, na kal (tomorrow) ki khabar.”
To watch the squirrels joyfully crisscrossing a dozen times in the lawn bound by mango trees on either side is a sport apart; they chase each other in turns, coming from opposite directions, they confront each other, stop for a while in the middle of a game, kiss each other’s snout and then resume their furious racing to reach their posts. They climb the trees, run on its branches and once exhausted, settle on a branch. They carry rags, pieces of woolly tufts, or cuttings of a cotton cloth to build their nesting platforms at a safe height hidden from the view of predator crows, hawks and shikras.
The family of squirrels obviously includes newborns, innocent creatures but nevertheless lively and active, though a little confused by their surroundings. While in the company of elders, they are taught lessons in the art of survival; they learn to be wary of humans and any other creature, unless familiar to the rest of family. They have to recognise the warning squeak of a squirrel from a distance so that they can run for cover against the attack of any kind of a predator or a cat lurking in the bushes. Not only that, they slowly learn to identify birds calls of babblers, bulbuls, mynas and robins, too.
So, it is a community-like affair between them to escape aerial attacks of any flying or crouching entrant. The ability to recognise the alarm sounds of the bird family can make a difference between life and end of life. These birds can spot a cat stalking or sitting in the bush behind the plants in the pots, against the boundary wall. There are as many anecdotes as the number of birds, an endless marvel of nature.
Let us return to our mundane world with a couplet from Mirza Ghalib: “Warq tamam hua aur madeh baqi hai … safina chahiyae is bahre bekaraun ke liye.”
THE PANDEMIC MAGICALLY BROUGHT WITH IT A NATURAL CLOSENESS TO NATURE. THE BEAUTY COULD BE ENJOYED DAY AFTER DAY WITHOUT ANY INVESTMENT EXCEPT ENTHUSIASM AND CURIOSITY