Mid-Day Musings - Randomness in the Lockdown

I noticed a white breasted kingfisher perched on the stairs by the pavement the other day, resplendent in the bright yellow heat of the sun. One evening, a few days later, during my walk, almost a nightly ritual, I notice a black drongo!

I don't know the first thing about birds, neither am I keen on watching them. I would get bored during trips to the bird sanctuary because they all looked the same to me, unless of course, i spot a sea of beautiful pink flamingos, an indignant-looking ostrich, a proud peacock showing off it's dance or a regal appearing hawk.

Is it the effect of the lockdown, this new-found interest? Not to mention, the birds that feel safe to venture out in the open, in the absence of the usual human hustle-bustle. I know this, everytime I identify a species, a frisson of pleased excitement runs through my veins.

I also particularly enjoy sitting out in my balcony, in the mid-day silence, looking into the salt troughs in the distance, ear drums cheerfully inviting the chirps, trills and whistles of different birds, a soothing accompaniment to the occasional clang of vessels at a neighbour's house, signs of life, thriving and flourishing around us.

I find myself enjoying these brief minutes of inactivity, before I feel the need to fill the seconds, minutes and hours with some activity that validates my existence today - something to add to my CV, a new skill that I can boast having learnt, an interesting titbit that I can quote in social conversations.

Why the guilt, I wonder? Why does our time have to be constantly accounted for? Why do I feel like the day was a waste, if spent, basking in nature's glory or just by oneself, sprawled over the couch? Is it blasphemy, to be aimless? A sin, if one's not ticking tasks off their to-do lists? Since when did I allow my life to be dictated by such a mandate. More importantly, who dictated it, and why am I dancing to their tunes?

Random thoughts flitting in and out of my head, as I squint into the bright light, clouds dulling the sharpness. It's comforting, this movie that nature's screening for me. A few dogs barking madly, chasing an unsuspecting canine intruder out of their territory.

I break out of this pleasant reverie as a familiar pang in my tummy nudges me for some hot buttered aromatic toast, my olfactory senses suddenly picking up an inviting whiff of something being fried in someone's home. I get up, not altogether grudgingly. Thoughts of fresh and soft whole wheat bread, buttered and toasted can do that to me, it's the Menaka to my meditating sage self.

As I head into the kitchen, I am content. Pleased with my brief fling with nature this morning, but even more pleased that I gave an outlet to those flowing thoughts, making way for more... a productive morning, wouldn't you call it? Feeling accomplished, I tick a box on my to-do list, for the day and get ready to brew the cup of coffee that I've earned.