One of the main reasons for loving this room is this window . It opens to a patch of greenery. There is a concrete pathway for people to sit and laze in the warm sun . the concrete stretch is interrupted with tall. comically frail looking trees whose only identity(as told by the gardener) is it being of ficus family.
Bottom half of the window panes are still fogged over from early morning dew.
A small vegetable garden greets your sight,beyond the concrete line. Tips of the cabbage leaves are ringed with dew. The trees are sprouting new foliage,gossamer thin, rust coloured , baby leaves, curled up in their nascent glory,shivering in the early morning breeze.
There is a family of squirrels running about ,in gay abandon ,on the floor, scampering up the tree trunks, stopping to sniff the morning air with their quivering little snouts, bushy tails held aloft.
Repeated attempts to build nests in the windows have been thwarted by diligent humans. Hence , the highest branch of the tallest tree has been inhabited by a large, bushy, nest, nestled comfortably in a fork .It comprises of all the fibres in the world you could think of, or not think of, for that matter. For days on end, the presence of a pair of moth eaten black socks ,on the ground beneath the tree kept baffling me.Everyday I would throw it in the garbage bin and everyday it would mysteriously reappear in the same spot. Some times one of them would be festooning a low lying branch. That is when I discovered the gigantic nest and the connection dawned upon me .
There is more to life outside the window.Stray parrots, mynahs ans some unidentified colourful birds stop by to say hello,filling the air with their gay choruses and chirpings.
A lizard is hibernating on the window sill for the past two weeks.It looks dead for all practical purposes, so deep is its slumber,deigning only to move slightly when poked by curious and heartless humans. "Even the chest is not heaving" exclaimed my small one the other day, breathing heavily into its realm of tranquillity. After shooing away all nosy parkers, I saw(or imagined)it half open a lazy eye ,shift a bit and settle down in peace again; eyes blissfully shut.
Bottom half of the window panes are still fogged over from early morning dew.
A small vegetable garden greets your sight,beyond the concrete line. Tips of the cabbage leaves are ringed with dew. The trees are sprouting new foliage,gossamer thin, rust coloured , baby leaves, curled up in their nascent glory,shivering in the early morning breeze.
There is a family of squirrels running about ,in gay abandon ,on the floor, scampering up the tree trunks, stopping to sniff the morning air with their quivering little snouts, bushy tails held aloft.
Repeated attempts to build nests in the windows have been thwarted by diligent humans. Hence , the highest branch of the tallest tree has been inhabited by a large, bushy, nest, nestled comfortably in a fork .It comprises of all the fibres in the world you could think of, or not think of, for that matter. For days on end, the presence of a pair of moth eaten black socks ,on the ground beneath the tree kept baffling me.Everyday I would throw it in the garbage bin and everyday it would mysteriously reappear in the same spot. Some times one of them would be festooning a low lying branch. That is when I discovered the gigantic nest and the connection dawned upon me .
There is more to life outside the window.Stray parrots, mynahs ans some unidentified colourful birds stop by to say hello,filling the air with their gay choruses and chirpings.
A lizard is hibernating on the window sill for the past two weeks.It looks dead for all practical purposes, so deep is its slumber,deigning only to move slightly when poked by curious and heartless humans. "Even the chest is not heaving" exclaimed my small one the other day, breathing heavily into its realm of tranquillity. After shooing away all nosy parkers, I saw(or imagined)it half open a lazy eye ,shift a bit and settle down in peace again; eyes blissfully shut.
you are the motivator, you are the writer, you are my mother
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