Can You Hear The Voice Of Nature? An Emotional Connection…

Voice Of Nature

This is the question I have often asked myself…

Nature speaks to us through its ineffable beauty; its voice is powerful and intense in all its forms.

And I have learnt to hear beyond the whispering willows… the whining of Mother Nature.

I could immediately relate to the veiled laments when my dear blogger friend Nihar asked the same question in his book… “Voice Of Nature”

So could Haiku, the little protagonist of this book whose innocence mingles with the wisdom and perception of his new friends who want to live with the same dignity they were born with.

The story of this book is set in Nandankanan Zoological Park, a 400-hectare zoo and botanical garden in Bhubaneswar, Odisha, India.

A critique on our relationship with flora and fauna, how we respond to them and how much of spontaneous love children develop for them, forms the basis of this book.

Haiku, a little boy is symbolic of human apprehensions, which often dilute at the altar of self-importance, pleasure and leisure.

Haiku’s own loving relationship with Mogli, the white tiger, Bani uncle, the ancient banyan tree and Kuki, the little bird speaks volumes about the future of our connection with nature.

The fact that Haiku can understand the language and emotions of animals, birds and trees symbolizes that we can hear the voice of nature if we possess the inclination and the disposition.

If we can think beyond our own interests!

If we want to nurture our relationship with Mother Nature.

We love to visit zoos; we have created such places to gloat about the care we shower on our animals but we forget that we keep them caged for our own amusement in the name of saving them from extinction.

Animal Love

Caged Mogli is the center of attraction but he yearns for those old days when he was free!

The banyan tree has been a witness to the disengagement of mankind.

Kuki, the little bird is trying to decipher the reasons behind all this. Her shouting at the tree cutters proves inconsequential.

None of them are familiar with the words ‘selfish’ and ‘profitable’!

It is ironic that the banyan tree is rooted yet it has gathered all the knowledge about the people who visit Nandankanan Zoological Park and the white tiger has been confined to one place yet he is expected to put up a pleasant face! Both of them seem to be hopeful and the hope lies in the little boy.

If we could “find God in nature, in animals, in birds and the environment”, as Pat Buckley said, we would think more like Haiku!

Nihar’s book inspires us to understand the divine bond of harmony, which exists between nature and man. It grimly reminds us, “There is a blurry boundary line between nature and civilization.” We must redefine it.

Albert Einstein also exhorted us “Our task must be to free ourselves… by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature and it’s beauty.”

I would like to express my immense gratitude to Nihar Pradhan for sharing his book with me before its publication. I read it with great awe and admiration. It raises the hope that the younger generation would enhance their efforts to restore the lost glory of Mother Earth.

It also reminded me about my visit to Sariska National Park in Rajasthan, India where I could experience the beauty and bounty of wildlife and plant life. A home to numerous majestic animals including Leopard, Wild Dog, Jungle Cat, Hyena, Jackal, and Tiger, this Park was said to have 25 tigers, living in their natural habitats but we couldn’t spot a single one!

Doesn’t it show that they possess a better protection sense?

Please share this post at your favorite social networks to express solidarity with this noble cause.

Thank you for your support. Please add your valuable comments, they are much appreciated.

Balroop Singh

Confessions Of A Writer Who Loses Track And Feels Disillusioned…

counter-writers-block

I have been trying to write a book, trying to compress most of the experiences of my life, honestly into it but each time I go back to those pages, some kind of darkness descends on me.

I get wedged in those dark corridors. I feel stifled.

My thoughts veer into those unknown crevices where I have buried many setbacks, a thousand emotions and disappointments, which have been struggling to wriggle out.

I have endeavored to approach it from a different angle, interspersing it with fictional characters and situations to camouflage the darker moments but each time I have returned disillusioned.

My progress has been dismally slow; I lose the inspiration just after writing a few words. Meanwhile I have completed two books. My poetry flows most naturally and this has been a good reminder that I lack the will to come out of those long, narrow alleys, face sunshine and move forward.

The hope

But sunshine has been my lifeline, my motivation, and my most trusted friend who has always provided me the impetus to welcome positive thoughts.

I have been pondering who is the real culprit and why this unknown entity lurks around me…

There is one main character with ghost like eyes, prying at me all the time, holding my hands, scaring the life out of my fingers, paralyzing them, shooting at my thoughts, stealing all the ideas, showing daggers and making me quit.

Each time its approach is different. Sometimes it visits me right in the morning, even before I open my journal, exerting a strange power over my actions, distracting me into some meaningless activities.

The vice like grip of this monster holds all the words that seem to drift away, leaving me powerless.

There is always a villain, I reassure myself. I have the liberty to portray this villain in the darkest shades.

Devilish influenceLove Of Writing

Whenever I move ahead with this argument in my mind, I can race through some more pages, which reveal many more fiends, glowering at me through the words.

I refuse to give up. Nothing can bog me down. I continue to write. A day will come when all these devilish characters would stand exposed.

They will lose their hold on me one day.

Do I regret having buried them? Probably that was the only solution at that time.

Probably I didn’t have the maturity to handle their power at that juncture.

Now I can’t let them keep visiting me. Now I need to extort them out of my life. Words are more powerful than the sharpest weapons.

So I have been using just words.

“If I waited till I felt like writing, I’d never write at all.” – Anne Tyler

Thank you for reading these random thoughts. I know you too have some. Please share them.

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Balroop Singh.

 

 

This Fall

This Fall

The fall adds wings to my words
The soft swish of breeze carries them away
Floating down merrily, they smile at me
And dance around with glee.

The ‘J’ of joy, the ‘M’ of melancholy
The ‘S’ of solitude, the ‘T’ of twilight
The ‘H’ of hope, the ‘C’ of calmness
All merge into each other

Enhancing the beauty of brilliant decay
Colors of fall highlight each ray
Of sun to inspire thoughts of twilight
Of forbearance, of change, of new days

At night the frightening wind
Brings sweeping somber thoughts
Of chilly gusts, of lonely nights
A yearning yells at those sights…

To get away, to stay adrift, to disengage
All those memories glide softly back
Into those enclosed caskets
Never shall I excavate.

This fall I am burying them deeper
This fall is more buoyant, more blissful
The resilience rests on my brow
The happiness lives with me now

In my thoughts, in my loving home
In all seasons, even in this fall
It brings sweet memories of moments dear
My words fly now with the same cheer.

© Balroop Singh

You can click on Sublime Shadows Of Life by Balroop Singh to read more such poems.

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