Yesterday I heard a small essay on the forest music. I had some constructive criticism to put in. That got me thinking. What would I have written?! Here it should be pointed out. I have never really been to a forest. I have always wanted to. But, I can always imagine. I can always dream...
Let me dream ....
I woke up when the first rays of sunlight touched the soft green leaves of the trees all around me. The birds and insects were already up. They were busily going about with their daily life. I heard the birds twittering as they flew out to maybe find food. It was a November morning. Just starting to get colder. The time of the year when you can smell the air getting cooler and the plants starting to look forward to all the flowers that are going to bloom. It always smells of anticipation during this time of the year in the tropics. I could see the red rays of the morning sun through the leaves of the trees forming strange patterns, crisscrossing on the ground. Beams of light coming through the foliage and when I stood under it, I felt like I was on a stage with the spotlights on. Did I tell you, when I was young I used to be mystified by the morning rays of the sun as it came through the window? I wanted to hold it in my hand. Later on, I learnt that what I saw was not the sun ray but the dust particles. But, in my mind today I could again see the shimmering bits of dust as the little bits of sun rays frolicking on me. And I saw butterflies. In myriad colours. And I saw birds.
As the day got older, the suns rays got more even. The whole forest was lighted up with an even but not too strong light. I could hear lots of forest sound. The screeching calls of the animals. The rustle on the leaves as they moved. Maybe I saw a monkey or two. Maybe I imagined seeing a few more animals of unknown origin. And all the while I looked out of my little balcony into the forest. Then came the noon time somnolence. It seemed to have captured the forest. The forest rested. And I heard the distant soft sound of water flowing through a narrow stream. I had seen the stream the other day. It was a tiny rivulet. Not very remarkable.
The noon day siesta was over. I was sitting on my balcony looking at the wee hours of twilight. There is something strange about this time. Maybe it is rightly called the witching hours. I always feel a little melancholy at this time. Maybe the forest felt it too. The birds were flying back. They were talking to each other about their day. Maybe sternly telling their little ones to behave as the little ones all too excited to see their parents were scrambling for attention and also food. It was the family reunion time. And then slowly the birds fell silently to sleep and the crickets took on the forest. It was getting increasingly dark. The shrubs looked like tiny monsters and the huge trees loomed over everything ominously. I felt a small shiver run down my spine. The fear of the unknown took over. The only things other than the indistinct outline of trees were the fireflies and maybe the eyes of animals looking up at me. Hungrily? Fiercely? All I could hear was the indistinct rustle of leaves as some animals or rodents moved on them and the monotonous drone of the crickets. Some times a stray animal call. I felt like in an island.
And then I looked up into the sky. I saw stars. Like I have never seen them before. I saw the whole milky way looking at me. It was the most intricate diamond necklace that man could imagine. It was the most beautiful thing that god had created! I felt tiny. I felt insignificant. And then I felt one with the stars. I felt like the universe. It was breathtaking. A stray droplet of tear coursed down my cheek as I payed homage to the star-studded sky.
