The Concert

I woke up to the musical notes played by my feathered friends. The recital of the morning ragas delicately drummed my ear drums. Some ragas seemed to be familiar, others not. I got out of my bed to listen to the live musical concert amidst natural surroundings. For a moment, I struggled to fine tune myself with the lazy morning. I came out in the verandah only to realise that it was I who was lazy while the morning was filled with freshness all over. The verandah overlooking the lush green valley was a perfect auditorium for nature-lovers. 

I washed my face to conquer over laziness, poured a cup full of hot tea and returned to the verandah. The leaves of the trees outside were still wet with morning dew. The valley was calm, the trees silent, leaves motionless. Avian activity injected life into the otherwise seemingly lifeless valley. There, the planet was busy positioning itself to light up the valley. A chameleon climbed down the tree, jumped on a big rock and steadied himself for a non-vegetarian breakfast. While the nocturnals went into hiding, the others strived to make the valley a happening place.

Though the orchestra was loud and clear, the greenery around made it difficult to locate the musicians. My trained ears picked up the sounds of sparrows, mynahs, bulbuls and sunbirds, though my eyes struggled to get even a glimpse of any of them. I enjoyed the tea till the last sip (as I always do) and decided to take a short walk through the woods. 

Thick layer of dry leaves carpeted the soil below. I went in the direction of the unfamiliar sound, being careful not to step on the camouflaged reptiles waiting for the prey. I walked around for a while. By now the Sun rays had penetrated the jungle. The dew had dried up. I sat on a big rock amidst the woods experiencing the joy of solitude. The silence in the atmosphere activated my otherwise dormant senses. I could hear the sound of the falling leaves, the morning breeze, the humming of a bee; I could smell the wet grass; I could sense the calmness within with eyes closed.

As I walked back, a bit dejected for no sightings, one of the musicians whose voice I couldn't recognise at day break landed on the branch of a tree  in front of me and played a piece for me. 'Ah ... Coppersmith Barbet’! I said to myself. As I watched his movements, I found a fellow spectator sitting on the branch of another tree - Juvenile Hornbill. After making a short appearance, the Barbet vanished in the woods. The Hornbill seemed to be in no hurry. One of the lucky fellows who spends his entire life amidst nature, I thought.

I then turned my back and bid adieu to the woods for a vegetarian breakfast.

                                              [Nishad Umranikar] 

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