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July 13, 2006
The simple joys of life
A fighter pilot rendered paralysed neck down by an air accident while on duty, years ago, Nasrullah writes about his pleasant encounters with the beautiful creations of Mother Nature and how they help wash away the tiredness, frustration and mental fatigue of daily life in a hospital
No matter how clichéd it may sound, the fact stands true that it is the little things in life that give one the most pleasure. Every evening, I leave my room just before sunset for some fresh air, and spend one hour revelling in the simple joys of life.
First to greet me on my daily sojourn are two plants that I planted about three years ago. One is raat ki rani, the other champa. After inspecting both of them and giving instructions to the gardener on how much to water them that day, I move on and see the neem (margosia) trees that I planted some years ago, which have now become about four to five metres tall.
As I take the next turn, I am enchanted by the sunset. Its beauty lies in the fact that everyday the sunset is different. Sometimes it is so beautiful that I am obliged to stop and admire it for a long time.
A little later I am ambushed by an army of children. Some hang on to the left side of my wheelchair, some on the right. I carry sweets, to distribute among them, in a bag behind my wheelchair. They keep running with my wheelchair, some of them hitching a ride behind it. Most of these children don’t have shirts on and are without shoes, but all of them have sparkling eyes, lovely smiles and the most innocent faces. Some bring along their toys to show me. Eight-year-old Rabia once brought miniature cooking utensils which she arranged neatly on the footpath.
Among the children’s brigade are identical twins Naila and Shumaila, who daily challenge me to a game of ‘Guess Who’. For the life of me, I can’t tell them apart, and lose the game (or am made to believe so) and have to pay up with sweets, which I gladly do, since they are such endearing souls.
As I turn to leave, they all say goodbye to me in unison. A little further on, I check my mail at the Officers Mess Reception and then begin my return journey through a very interesting road. There are houses on the left side and a belt of thick jungle on the right. Over here, many animals wait for me, because I carry bread to feed them. The first to arrive are the cats, loudly meowing and vociferously demanding their share.
Then I see some mongoose, hiding near the periphery of the jungle on the right side of the road. A far cry from the scrawny creatures snake charmers display, these are very beautiful. When they hear the approach of my wheelchair, they come out from the jungle and stand on two legs, watching me warily. Since they are shy and do not approach me like the cats do, I leave the bread at a distance. I have to be very still, or else they get scared and scamper away into the jungle.
On days when I am late, porcupines emerge from the dark, to come to claim their share of the bread. Sometimes they have a competition with the mongoose, making for an interesting spectacle. The porcupines are big and slow, while the mongoose are small but fast. When they are agitated, the porcupines eject sharp quills, about 40cm long, in the direction of the threat.
On days when I am really late, and it happens to coincide with the 15th or 16th of the moon, I am treated to an unparalleled sight. The moon is low, exceptionally large, yellow, and the sight of it through a pair of ancient palm trees is enough to take your breath away.
On my normal routine, I also see many birds en route, who make a lot of noise (almost as much as the children do) when the sun is setting. In fact, I hear the same orchestra in my room in the morning, just before sunrise. Hearing this melodious chirping is the last treat of my journey.
In this one hour I thoroughly enjoy myself and feel refreshed. The pleasant encounters with the beautiful creations of nature leave me happier and richer. It is this collection of some very simple, nondescript events that helps wash away all the hullabaloo, tiredness, frustration and mental fatigue of daily life.
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