I could sit for hours and hours and look at the lush green leaves, thick, brown tree trunks and blanket of dark clouds over the light blue sky. Like a little adorable kid, the sun peeped out from among the fortress of clouds. Today in particular, I saw the yellow and orange sun to be a little powerless; overshadowed by the snow white caravan of clouds conquering the wide, infinite sky as far as my vision went.
I often ask myself which is more beautiful and spell bounding; the morning sky or the starlit one. However, as I try to judge and observe I discover that there is more…
In moments the sky was all clear, spotless blue and there a round yellow sun proudly shone over its dynasty. As the day started to pass, a little breeze blew, cool and soothing. It’s always the same and welcoming. It brushes past you, touches your skin, caresses your hair and the dupatta (scarf) flies behind you rhythmically. While I stood on the roof top of my house and enjoyed the pampering nature; nearby a towering, tall tree caught my attention. The fresh lush green, graceful, leaves playfully moved to and fro to the enchanting songs of the birds. Robin hoods, sparrows, woody woodpeckers, parrots all sung and fluttered their wings as the tree danced with them. I wondered for long about the adorable company they are always to each other and got engrossed in the magical spell of the nature.
Time slipped by like sand slips out of your hands no matter how tight your grip is. It deceives us or we deceive it I wonder…..
The sky was no longer vibrant or sharp. It had transformed into a clear, silent and dull blue, waiting for something. And it happened. It was as if someone started playing with the colours, splashing them on the colossal canvas of sky. The sun started to set and sank down slowly; surrounded by shades of dim yellow, spread out orange and peach, mixed with the soft tones of pink. The wait seemed to have been worth it. How peaceful everything looked. The nature seems most engulfing and captivating at this time of the day. As my thoughts too slowed down with the setting sun, I realized how everything around had submitted itself to nature. The slow parting movements of the drowning sun with the birds flying away towards their destinies followed an invisible command. The call for prayer tied the final knot to the magnificent episode of sun setting.
Followed by twilight, night spreads its magical, mystical deep sapphire shade above. In no time the myriad of stars began to twinkle like some unique gems embedded in the velvety sky. I gazed up the enormous deep blue sky shaded with purple. A full moon swam in the pool of enigmatic darkness above. Perfect round, white and every poet’s darling. So what is it that forces the poets to say so much about the moon comparing it to their beloveds?
I thought of the infant moon, still in its formation. This thin crescent moon veiled by fleecy clouds on the first of every Islamic month pays homage to the Creator and Nurturer on the entire entity. The more I thought of the world around me, the more I became oblivious of another reality that we indulge in every single day of our lives, segregated from nature.
The night had indeed grown deeper around me. One close rendezvous with nature had answered the infinite questions I struggled to find ‘it is always somewhere morning in the world…’