It has been raining for forty eight hours now with sporadic stops. It is 7.30 A.M and I’m sitting in the back verandah of my house trying to soak in the aftermath of incessant rain. The sky is still covered with white clouds. My eyes survey the scene around. In front of me on the clothes line, water droplets are seen suspended totally intact. I squint my eyes and look at them with a new perception. Lo, they look like pearl drops embellishing a lassie’s tender earlobes. On my left is the Neem, absolutely saturated and exhibiting its majestic stature while its twigs are swinging mildly in the gentle morning breeze. During monsoon its leaves put on a dark green healthy elegance soothing the onlookers’ nerves and its torso becomes filled up with the sheen of green.
Slowly the velocity of the wind is rising, cooling the environment further. The vigour of the swinging movement of the Neem branches is steadily growing. A pair of parrots came in the range of my vision flying in Milkha Singh’s sprint speed. I can see a crow wet to the bones and its neck lazily resting on its limp body perched on the parapet of the house in front. On the ground my mint bed gives a fresh appearance though it got a belated pruning. Tulsi plants look a bit unruly and are crying for some attention from their host i.e. poor me. Actually these are smarting under the weight of unregulated growth and lack of proper shearing on time. (My gardener neglected his duties in our absence.)
In the background I can hear the TV commentary on the events taking place in historic Red Fort grounds in Delhi; the unfurling of the flag and various other ceremonies in connection with our 65th Independence Day on 15th August. On the road across vehicular traffic is gaining momentum. A neighbour’s dog has started its demanding bark. May be it is asking to be taken for its morning stroll which is delayed by its master. The vegetable vendor is already hawking his wares. These worldly noises ended abruptly my magic moments of serene interaction with nature.
I’m not going inside to watch the predictable stuff on the TV. I’ve seen it year after year….I feel like ruminating on the loves of my life on this Independence Day. I’m proud of my country. I love every blade of its grass, every petal of its flowers, every leaf of its trees, every rock on its hills, every drop of the water in its ponds, lakes, rivulets, canals, streams, rivers and its vast seas; its rich culture, its numerous languages, its Vedas, Scriptures and all other religious books, its philosophers and great men and its smiling citizenry in spite of being crushed under elephantine problems.
But there are things which gnaw my conscience. My helplessness alarms me. Where are we heading for, with the creeping cynicism, disillusionment and frustration of our times? Yes! I’m not going inside to listen to the blah, blah, blah!!! Rather I'll sit out and contemplate.
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I wrote it on 15th August but'm posting it today.
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