A beam of moonlight had brightened my room when I opened my eyes. It seemed as if the fairies had descended through that light into my room. It looked so beautiful early in the morning while my room still smelled of sleep. I looked into the sky through the window where the full moon seemed to be smiling back to me as if it were saying its not yet time to get up and I can slid into my blanket. The small piece of cloud which had cushioned the moon seemed to be glistening in gold. The moon really looked beautiful. I closed my eyes to go back to sleep or at least try to sleep though I knew it will be futile. At 5:00AM, I heard the fluttering of leaves and the sound like when someone sprinkles water into fried oil. I knew it was raining, may be the last rain of the season. The rain was not fierce rather gentle as if it were bidding goodbye to the earth to the flora promising them that it will be back next year. I pulled the curtain to look into the sky, the moon was not to be seen but the piece of cloud in the sky looked golden, it seemed to be emitting golden light and I knew the moon was inside this very cloud. May be it was letting the rain engage in farewell.
I could hear the movements of people on the road though the road is more than hundred meters away from the home. Early in the morning when the world is still sleeping sounds are clearer. I guessed the students must be hurrying to their morning colleges and other people marching on the road as their morning walk routine. It’s too early for the rain to bid goodbye but may be it was consoling the earth that its time for it to go and after a week or two it will be gone. May be it was pouring the water on the pores of soil so that the plants will be able to live on it. This is the motherly love of nature, I suppose. I expected a cooler day today. The fluttering of the leaves reminded me of mothers tucking their children to sleep lovingly patting their back over a lullaby while the leaves sounded like stubborn child wanting to hear more, the lullaby has ended and now they want to listen a story. The earth looks to me like a child clutching the end of his/her mother’s sari when she wants to go to work, to kitchen or for other homely choirs.
This ritual must have been there from the time the plants and lives sprang from the heart of earth and till today after thousands of years it looks equally blissful. A pigeon is sitting on the railing of my balcony. It must have set out to find food, bring the food back to its nest to feed its children. Unusually the pigeon looks calm just like the hostel warden who allows brief loving chat between the mother and the child even after the time to meet has expired. I hope soon it will warn cooing the rain and the leaves that the time is already over. I love this harmony. I want to see the world standing on my balcony but I don’t want to disturb the pigeon. I am equally pleased to watch its patience. Though except for houses I can see nothing from my balcony, I love greeting the morning from the very balcony and feel the whiff of air push my cheeks as if blessing from heaven. I could see the smooth feathers of the pigeon being drifted by the breeze, I envied it but still let it enjoy the morning glory. The atmosphere is sweet neither it is dark not its bright. The darkness and brightness have mixed with each other to create the color that is very difficult to describe albeit they will separate soon, very soon. The rain is already slowing down and the pigeon is moving its head cautious, may be its judging whether it can fly on or not and soon I see it hovering in the sky. It is no longer visible in a matter of seconds.
I could hear the movements of people on the road though the road is more than hundred meters away from the home. Early in the morning when the world is still sleeping sounds are clearer. I guessed the students must be hurrying to their morning colleges and other people marching on the road as their morning walk routine. It’s too early for the rain to bid goodbye but may be it was consoling the earth that its time for it to go and after a week or two it will be gone. May be it was pouring the water on the pores of soil so that the plants will be able to live on it. This is the motherly love of nature, I suppose. I expected a cooler day today. The fluttering of the leaves reminded me of mothers tucking their children to sleep lovingly patting their back over a lullaby while the leaves sounded like stubborn child wanting to hear more, the lullaby has ended and now they want to listen a story. The earth looks to me like a child clutching the end of his/her mother’s sari when she wants to go to work, to kitchen or for other homely choirs.
This ritual must have been there from the time the plants and lives sprang from the heart of earth and till today after thousands of years it looks equally blissful. A pigeon is sitting on the railing of my balcony. It must have set out to find food, bring the food back to its nest to feed its children. Unusually the pigeon looks calm just like the hostel warden who allows brief loving chat between the mother and the child even after the time to meet has expired. I hope soon it will warn cooing the rain and the leaves that the time is already over. I love this harmony. I want to see the world standing on my balcony but I don’t want to disturb the pigeon. I am equally pleased to watch its patience. Though except for houses I can see nothing from my balcony, I love greeting the morning from the very balcony and feel the whiff of air push my cheeks as if blessing from heaven. I could see the smooth feathers of the pigeon being drifted by the breeze, I envied it but still let it enjoy the morning glory. The atmosphere is sweet neither it is dark not its bright. The darkness and brightness have mixed with each other to create the color that is very difficult to describe albeit they will separate soon, very soon. The rain is already slowing down and the pigeon is moving its head cautious, may be its judging whether it can fly on or not and soon I see it hovering in the sky. It is no longer visible in a matter of seconds.
1 comment:
what a beautiful 'earthy' post :)
**The earth looks to me like a child clutching the end of his/her mother’s sari when she wants to go to work, to kitchen or for other homely choirs.
loved how u described it there!
Keshi.
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