Posts tagged ‘Nature’
Dear Jungle Jalebi
Tears fall with you
As you fell
Last night
In winds that revved
Up a mighty squall
Your roots uprooted
From the earth
Your branches entangled
In electric wires
Bit by bit you
Are dismantled
From all that upon
Which you rest
Your weary limbs
And taken away
The cat runs up your
Huge, sloping trunk
One last time
To flex his muscles
On Nature’s post
The parrots busy
Gobbling your summer-ripened
Red fruit – so much you
Showered this year….
You enriched my life
By your presence,
Doing nothing,
And yet so much
And soon I will have
To learn to live in your
Absence
This time there is no sorrow
Only acceptance of
Nature and her forces
Yes, my friend,
I will miss you
And so will the cats
And squirrels
And birds and all
Those who came
And sat in your shade
And tasted your beauty
New Delhi
May 15th 2013
The dear, old Jungle Jalebi had probably been around for over 50 years. Our house was built around it. Like a friend that must go, it went. Funnily enough, it is still lives on…
LISTEN
Listen to birds
Listen to children
Listen to words spoken
Listen to that which is unspoken
Listen to open skies
Listen to clouds
Listen to falling rain
Listen to the rhythm of the universe
Listen to the space inside you
Listen to the space inside others
Listen to that which is unheard
Listen to that which is not thought of
Listen to stillness
Listen to nothing at all
Listen with attention
Listen with sincerity
Listen with love
Listen to silence
For God’s sake
Just Listen
Every one wants to be heard
Let’s live in the silence between words
Let’s abide in the silence of knowing
Let’s be the silence of it all
Rupa Anand
March 29th 2011
At the feet of the Master by whose Grace we learn to truly listen!
Falling
Falling
Falling
Fallen Leaves
In all hues
Mostly yellow
Ochre, dull gold, brown, yellow again
Not a place where a fallen leaf has not
Fallen
Dropping
Shedding
Replacing
Piled high on street corners
In parks and on side-walks
Under-foot and in my face
Rustle
Rustle
Rustle
Tender Crumpled Delicate
Each different from its sibling
The building blocks of forests
The laboratory of trees
Houses, furniture
Books, comforts
Conveniences
Built by leaves
Now falling
Falling
Fallen
Have you ever lain on a bed of fallen leaves?
April 12th 2011
In the evening, the garden comes alive with birdsong. The sun’s slanting rays casts shadows over ferns and bushes, one minute there and gone the next! The movement of light over the little expanse seems to dance to the music of bulbuls. A pair frequents the garden. Their warbles and chuckles lull and soothe as they flit and fly fanning their tail-ends, alighting on top of a swaying leaf or stem. Resting a bit and giving out a gurgle, they fly off again. I envy their flight as I do their apparent freedom! Bulbuls are known to be monogamous. This red-vented pair, I notice, has tried its best to nest in whatever is available in the little garden. A month ago, they had nested in the wicker basket that hangs over the front porch of the drive way. Soon enough, three eggs appeared which days later hatched into three baby bulbuls. I wondered how they would manage to survive the big-bad- world at large and decided to play grandmother bulbul! Asking the Mali to put green netting around the nest that would protect them, I imagined it would do the job! Kuldip and other staff kept an eye on the nursery. Toby and Tinker Bell the Siamese pair were forbidden to venture out on the porch overhead! Even the Mali refused to water the fern that housed them. The chicks seemed to be doing just fine. And I looked forward to the addition of new members to the bird orchestra in the garden very soon.Alas! Early one morning, as I stepped out of the front door, I saw the fern and lumps of moss in a heap before me. In a flash I knew what had happened, recalling that I had seen two stray cats lurking outside the evening before!
And yet the warbles and chuckles of the bulbuls continue. I am quite certain it is the same pair re-making their nest. They hover near the hibiscus bushes often. Four evenings ago I saw a stray cat roaming on the boundary wall. Tinker Bell, my crafty and thoroughly spoilt Siamese cat repeatedly visits the same spot on the wall.
Repeatedly I go out and bring her down. I am sure the bulbuls’ story isn’t over just yet. I instruct Kuldip to investigate and locate their nest. He peers and prods around in the bushes for a while but can’t find anything. I intuitively know he is wrong! The next day he informs me that he has located the nursery. It is in the hedge that overhangs the boundary wall but on the outside of it. I am delighted. Tinker Bell is forbidden to amble on the wall.
Bricks are brought in and the area on top of the wall to the left and to the right of the nest is cordoned off from the cats. Mr Crow knows something is up. He swoops down often enough and the pair flies about frenetically keeping up their shrill calls. We shoo the big black crow. The rain comes down heavily. A calm descends. I visit the outer periphery and take a peek. I see three glorious little ones covered in their fluffy down feathers huddled together. The parents seem to understand my concern and watch a little cautiously giving out a rather nervous chuckle now and then. The Mali decides to hang a bit of green netting on the outside in the hope of keeping them safe. I ask the Universe to lend its whole-hearted support to this little family. I trust that this time my prayers will be answered. Sure enough in a few days, the glorious fledglings abandon their nest to take their perch in the neighbouring branches, testing their wings to soon fly away into the universe.
The Chinese fan palm stands in one corner of the garden rubbing shoulders with the champa (frangipani) tree. Its large fan leaves arch strongly along the extended stalk and appear folded in the middle. Each leaf has long narrow segments curling at the edges like a drooping fringe. To its left is the mighty vilaiti keekar, which has stood here for perhaps fifty years or so. I didn’t remove it when the house was built. Who would want to remove this grand old tree that over the years has nurtured life as the seasons changed? The month of August brings late rain to Delhi, and the little garden comes alive, making it fresh, wet and fragrant. Sitting out in the veranda is one of my favourite activities. The wet rain, little tailor birds dipping about, a pair of mama and papa chirping bulbuls and sunbirds drinking from the open hibiscus are a balm that soothes my senses and gladdens my heart. Read more
“There is almost an enchantment of unbelievable magic in the method of communication adopted by nature in guiding seekers.” Swami Chinmayananda
The Heavens burst open at the fading light
With an invitation to a dance tonight.
Venue being the Pastoral Green –
Dress-code is – ‘Come as you preen!’
The sky changes its clothes from blue to grey –
Mrs Squirrel dashes off to close down for the day.
The Tree lived in a corner of the garden,
Roots firm and steady, into the ground,
Trunk solid and upright, into the sky,
Branches fanning out, replete with leaves,
Boughs laden with fruit, heavy and green,
I wish I was that mountain, still, majestic by itself.
I wish I was that cloud, adrift, in an azure sky.
I wish I was this rosebud, pink, waiting to be opened.
I wish I was that pine tree, tall, whistling in the wind.
I wish I was the colour, green, in a tuft of grass.
I wish I was that fragrance, sweet, in a frangipani flower.
I wish I was that voice, divine, in a koel’s song.
I wish I was that beaming smile, upon a friendly face.
Who knows I may have been them all, once upon a time?
Who knows I may be them again, in another time…
February 2009