The Word for Writers

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Natural Rythm

Dragging myself out of the drudgery of usual weekend evenings, I set out to breathe some fresh air. The cacophony created by the chirping birds, the music being played behind the house, the rough sound of horns, the mixed murmurs of children playing in the backyard, the harsh sound of gunshots being played on the television sets was overpowering. Suddenly, wave after wave of birds passed overhead and then dwindled away into the endless sky. The beautiful picture abated my gloomy profile and I found myself hurling my way towards the staircase ending on the terrace. I was stuck by a sudden revelation that might have been lost in the humdrum of life.

Wordsworth thought nature made a better individual out of him. Keats said, “A thing of beauty is joy forever”. To some it is a dilemma, to some a secret treasure and to some a feast for heart. For me, it is a fascination that continues to grow every time I get into the company of nature – an anxiety buster for me in the true sense. Have you ever given a fancy to the trees with variegated leaves, a white vapor trail left by a plane in the unending sky, the rim of trees washed by rains, the flock of birds savoring their liberation?
I have!
They intoxicate me and instill in me a desire a break all the barriers and set myself free. Invading nature sometimes becomes a source of bliss and unfolding umpteen secrets. But alas! I was jerked out of my senses by the sound of a loud door bell but this revelation surely appeased my senses and made the weekend productive. Thanks to the wave of birds who drugged me enough to pen down my thoughts to be shared by all.

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