Saturday 18 April 2015

A Step - Sorry, a hop at a time


Come on, Ma, just thinking is not going to help you get anywhere.” My daughter said, calling me to a game of shuttle. I was just not in the mood for it but not wanting my burden to become her burden I agreed and played so badly that my daughter suggested we go for a walk instead.

Three cases. All the three companies I had invested in had come tumbling down. I thought dividing my investments into three would avoid such a disaster. How could I make it up now? Would it affect my husband and daughter?...

 "Pa is calling, Ma” my daughter said, giving me the phone.
“I have good news for you," he said. "We are going to Kallanai dam tomorrow. My boss is taking us to celebrate our company's success.Three other families are coming.”

‘Promise me you’ll enjoy the day,’ was my daughter’s only request.

“Wow! A beautiful place to spend the day,” my daughter said as we got down from our van and went to peep at the water glittering in the sun. We walked through the traffic jam and reached a shady island like place.
Being a holiday, the historical dam (it was built by a Cholan King,Karikalan Chola in the 2nd century and then developed later on by a British Engineer) was packed beyond its capacity. Vendors made good business, as if to make up for all other working days when people could hardly be sighted. The centre of attraction was a rotating plastic bull with just a small strap on its back which a rider could use to balance himself. The crowds cheered as rider after rider tried his luck. Finally a small boy won everyone’s applause as he seemed glued to the bull. His size and weight seemed ideal to fool the centrifugal force of the bull.

After playing some games, we settled down to have lunch. Fried rice, chappaties, eggs and vegetables. After some more rest and entertainment, we continued exploring.




                           Photo: Google image
                            
The dam looked like a square opened up on one side to let the water in. The other three sides had shutters to control and distribute water in three different directions.

The side opposite to the opening was most beautiful. Built in step-like structures made the water gush down, each drop glistening like gems in the sun, showing off their beauty before falling down partly as froth and partly as spray. Further down was a line of weeds where cranes, storks and other water birds sat, perhaps to catch fish that got trapped in the weeds. Only one or two cranes stood along the edge of the steps balancing themselves effortlessly like acrobats, concentrating only on the fish they could get.
One crane in particular caught my attention. It was standing on one leg – just like the cranes in Chikibio’s story, I thought. Just how could it choose this of all places to sleep, I couldn’t help wondering. All around it the water thundered and flowed. One wave seemed enough to make it a pack of feathers and distribute it the next moment. As if to answer me, it put down its foot but pulled it up immediately – obviously in pain. Looked like it had an injury. I wondered who or what could have caused it. After a while it bent down and held up a small shiny silver coloured fish in its beak. Hey - What luck! Or rather, what grit of the little bird.




 Wasn’t I too standing in deep waters like the crane?  Could I also hop my way to success? I felt a surge of hope.

Tuesday 7 April 2015

A Tiny Survivor

                                                       
“Hey! How did this leaf come here?” I exclaimed as I was collecting drinking water from the tap in a pot. The leaf went up and down and then I noticed that it had legs all over. On closer inspection I found that it was a prawn, ¾” long and some 2mm wide.
The dam that supplied us with water was some 12 kms away.  The water must have been purified before it reached us: that meant a process of sedimentation, then passage through coal beds and chemical treatment before it reached us.  How did this tiny creature survive all that and then swim through 12 kms of water? Or how could he possibly have jumped in from somewhere else like a catfish after the processing?
I named him ‘Tiny’ and loved him instantly. (It must have been a ‘he’ to muscle his way through). I transferred him to an old fish bowl I found and scraped in a small bit of fish food I had. Fish usually died of over-feeding so how much should I feed this little fellow?  
  I went to an aquarium but its keeper caught a handful of 3” long fish from one tank and fed them to bigger fish in another tank.  I gasped and shied away from asking him about Tiny.

 Occasionally I would drop in a fibre from a dog’s bone or a speck of fruit. Thrice he moulted his skin. It was then that I realized he was a part of nature and belonged there.

The next holiday I carried his bowl and went to the dam he had come from. Crowds had come to celebrate the showers we had the last few days and the increase in the inflow of water.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               free digital photos.net

“Mummy,” a plump boy of about 14 was whimpering near us, a packet of chips in his hand. “Sneha made me walk all the way from there,” he said, pointing to the beginning of the traffic jam.
“If I didn’t, we’d still be stuck up there,” a slim and tall girl with long hair said as she returned from parking a Scooty nearby. But he made a face at her and clung to their mother, a round lady of about 45.
As I peered into the water I noticed some 5-6” long fish. Here and there some fish were jumping even above the water’s surface. I walked off the main course and came to a pool surrounded by some tall plants. It looked like a spring, small bubbles bursting occasionally. Safe from big fish, birds and drying up. I emptied the bowl there and bid Tiny farewell.
“Mummy!” the whimpering boy was near us again. “Tell Sneha that I won’t walk back again.”
‘Today’s youngsters could learn a lot from Tiny,’ I thought and drove away.

                                                                        free digital photos.net