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Hi, this is somebody who has taken the quieter by-lane to be happy. The hustle and bustle of the big, booming main street was too intimidating. Passing through the quieter by-lane I intend to reach a solitary path, laid out just for me, to reach my destiny, to be happy primarily, and enjoy the fruits of being happy. (www.sandeepdahiya.com)

Monday, April 29, 2019

The sad love story of a lonely hoopoe

Insistent, persistent, adamant and brave. The lonely Romeo. Apart from my mind's own inconsequential blabbering with its own self, I hear this hoopoe's mate song almost with the frequency of thoughts in mind. He is relentless. Going on and on for the last two weeks. Hope he hasn't forgotten to eat in his mad song of love to attarct some female of the species. Hoopoes are almost gone from the area. Where is wood, so where will they do their master carpentry in tree trunks. There are hardly any flocks left. It's a lonely bird who wants to keep his species alive at any cost. Hidden in the foliage of this acacia he is busy with love song in this heat. The song of love which may reach some stray female  to allow the natural chemistry to take place and delay their tragic story of extinction from the area for some more time. It's lyrical, pining uuup, uuup, uuup is riding the dusty air of wheat harvesting season. They are hardly seen in this part. In fact I had forgotten its sound. Then its lovely sad notes reached me in meditation and some long asleep memory drew a picture of hoopoe in the blank vastness reminding me of those childhood days when we were lucky to see them going tonk tonk on big tree trunks. So that's how the tragic stories of bird extinction unfolding. But these are not just the desperate love notes of a lonely bird. These are the sad stories told by the last of their generation here in this part. Let's hope some lonely lady hoopoe comes to hear these mate-finding notes.
Contrary to weeks long day in and day out songs of love by this lonely bird, humans are having gala time. Bred as we have with the tenacity of antswarms. So there is hardly any fight. Mates available. People pick up mates with the drop of a hat. Relationships last in weeks because there are humans and humans around. Spoilt for choice are we humans. Instragram, dating sites, Facebook, twitter everything is saturated with choice for a mate fling. People hardly come to feel the depth of love. It's short version twenty twenty of love. Hit sixes and fours, grab your trophy and start new innings.
Isn't it ironical that only animals and birds appear to carry the message of love these days. This hoopoe for example. Can somebody show this type of lyrical dedication for weeks in all this heat. Well, it makes me sad and happy at the same time. Sad because love seems to have vanished from the world of humans. Happy that I am at least lucky to see and hear these love tales in nature.

Saturday, April 27, 2019

Thirsty honeybees in flowerless land

Scorching heat... spring died...flowers withered. But life has to continue till flowers bloom once again. With temperature around 40 and flowers gone, these honeybees look like desert travellers busy around an oasis. Water level in the tiny vessel was low, so many of them slipped down the edges while attempting to take tiny swigs of water. One can use love, care and help in any corner of the world. It polishes the aesthetics of humanity. A little practice to be more human. Goodness is qualitative in nature. It doesn't need quantity to get certified as a good deed. Main thing is one's emotion. So here I take my quantum jump in evolution by filling the bucket to the brim so that these little thirsty visitors safely perch on the upper edge and drink water without risking their lives. They get water, I become more aware of the godliness in me. Profit both ways. Vaah, what a fruitful day!

Wednesday, April 24, 2019

The death of a moth

The Moth's last sigh. It moves today like it fluttered yesterday. The only difference is that yesterday its littlest ounce of consciousness was put inside this tiny miligram of a shape. Today but that ounce of consciousness has spread to become part of everything. The matter now moves to the force of everything around. Transition from life to matter. Here flutters the moth corpse to free wind. Yesterday exactly at this time I saw it crawling on the floor. Little did I realise that it was on its death bed. Now it becomes part of everything to take its consciousness at this frequency on the further march of evolution of consciousness just like species have evolved at the level of biology, at the level of matter. Matter and consciousness both evolve. There are parallels. We just need to be aware of it. And it becomes a very much realisable process.