30 Sep 2021  |   05:45am IST

Forced Confinement

Forced Confinement

K S S Pillai

The current pandemic has been playing havoc all over the world for more than eighteen months now. People are being forced to remain indoors now and then, thanks to the lockdowns declared by governments. Understandably, many who used to heave a sigh of relief while leaving their homes every morning labelled the forced confinement as monotonous. My sympathies are with them.

Health-related problems have forced me to be cooped up inside my home for some time now. Though it was equally irritating and boring for me in the beginning, I have changed my attitude.

My room is on the first floor of my house facing the rising sun. Adjacent to it, there is a spacious balcony with its front portion open. Being away from bustling cities with high-rising buildings, I have an unhindered view of the world outside when I sit there with my books, mobile phone, and laptop.

At times my attention is drawn by the shrill noise produced by some birds on the golden shower tree in front of the house. They often have other birds, butterflies, ants, squirrels, and chameleons for company. A couple of bulbuls suddenly leave the tree and sit close to each other on the cable over the road in front of my house, whispering sweet nothings to each other. When the tree is laden with bunches of flowers, swarms of honey bees land on them, sucking honey to their contentment.

During the rainy season, the sky is suddenly invaded by black clouds, changing their shape constantly, hurrying across it. Flashes of lightning and peals of thunder warn me of the approaching downpour, forcing me to shift my chair further inward. In the distance, I can see women hastily collecting clothes from the cloth-lines on their terrace, drenching themselves in the process. Children playing on the road abandon their games and run homewards, enjoying the change in the atmosphere. That reminds me of my childhood playmates and wonder about those who might still be living.

Often there would be a strong wind preceding the rains, making trees sway violently. Broken branches fly through the air, landing far away. Birds flying in battle formation towards their distant nests are lifted violently off their course, but they manage to return to their original path soon.

Bats leave their host trees in groups at twilight, heading towards orchards to feast on fruits throughout the night. They remind me of the sprawling cashew tree in the compound of my village home and me, along with my siblings, searching for cashew nuts at the end of bat-sucked apples on the ground. 

During the Uttarayan, I watch men, women and children, wearing goggles and caps, flying kites on their terrace, vying with their neighbours to cut the string of one another’s kites. At intervals, one can see uncontrolled kites, trailing their cut strings, floating through the sky, chased by children holding long poles to catch them.

My attention is drawn now and then by the drone of aero-planes on regular flights, looking tiny high above, playing hide and seek among the clouds.

Despite its negative impacts, I feel the lockdown has brought man closer to nature.


IDhar UDHAR

Idhar Udhar