Woman sad alone 190102
I don’t think I can ever be lonely again Image Credit: Pixabay

The rays of the early morning sun cheerfully peep through the white sheets inviting me to embrace a new dawn. I usually wake up with a jerky start, but I surprise myself by being mindful of my movements as I sit up to look out of my window and reciprocate the warm greeting.

Previously this was not a regular occurrence. But I must admit that I too never bothered much about what lay out of doors. The morning alarm always sprang me into frenzied action -- waking the kids, getting their lunch bags ready and ensuring that they looked well-groomed for school. There was no time for anything else.

However, when doctors recommended ‘minimal walking’ to soothe and relax my twisted ankle, I began whiling away most of the day staring out of the huge glass windows that overlook the garden space. I must admit that the viewings, were sometimes interspersed with heavy Netflix indulgences. But with time hardly a constraint or an excuse now, I keenly observed the outside world and watched in awe as nature unabashedly revealed itself in all its elements and grandeur.

The commonality between human beings and nature was pleasantly striking. Of course, we are an integral part of nature but sometimes our condescending outlook does get the better of us. And therein lies our folly to overlook the beauty and joy that nature truly beholds.

Carefree evenings talking about nothing

As I looked out, I noticed that the huge, thick trees — that envelope my premise — is quite a jovial lot. Standing tall as trustworthy guards, their incessant chatter, and friendly sways in the presence of a swift breeze reminded me of my college days. We (my college mates and myself) used to spend our carefree evenings talking about nothing and giggling over trivial things that would hardly make sense to any passer-by.

And as I lowered my gaze, I noticed two mynas gingerly dipping their dainty feet on the topmost steps of the pool. They cleverly perched close to the thick foliage that shielded them from the harsh summer light. The coolness of the water made them break into a dance. They tapped their feet in complete unison as though they had rehearsed well for the performance. The mynas reminded me of little kids squealing with delight when the soft waves gently caress their feet along the seashore.

Not to be left far behind, the flowers too thrived in gay abandon. The portulaca and vinca blossoms added to the vibrant ambience, while the earnest hoopoes busied digging out worms from the freshly manicured lawn. The herbs — rosemary, oregano and Thai basil that were recuperating from the harshness of the summer heat — served as appreciative audience as they sat comfortably in the shaded spots of the wooden deck.

What brought me immense cheer was their casual camaraderie and unrestrained burst of emotions for what was on offer to them. There was absolutely no space for high expectations, and therefore, none remained disappointed.

Balmy summer afternoons

The entire surrounding basked in the glory of the balmy summer afternoon. It was a pleasure to watch them revel and audaciously immerse themselves in the reverie of the moment. They really knew how to make the most of their time together. The harmonious ambience only exposed the biggest failure of humans — to enjoy and celebrate each other’s differences and indulge in the moment.

My little garden had so many lessons to offer. Personally, I find it so hard to remain focused on the moment. Try as hard as I do, inevitably the past tugs me in one direction and the anxiety of what the future might unfold consumes my being and the sheer bliss of the present is mercilessly ruined.

However, I must admit that with the bruised foot obediently elevated on a pillow, I have spent some wonderfully lazy mornings watching nature reveal its magnificent self. I have never felt so rejuvenated before. In their midst, I don’t think I can ever be lonely again.

Though I wouldn’t wish anyone to be restrained to their bed with regular reminders to stay put in one place, which did sometimes turn to reprimands, looking through those glass windows surely did me a world of good.

I guess every cloud does have a silver lining.

Seema Nambiar is a freelancer