Looking down can be rewarding, at times, as I’m now endowed with. From the balcony of the eighth floor apartment of my nephew Suresh, I have a panoramic view of the crown of a papal tree, down below. Amazing is its panoramic expanse ! What a display of abundance, artistically, evenly and elegantly spread greenery, covering a wide area, moving the head in rhythm, dancing to the tune of the wind, providing shelter to hundreds of birds and cool breeze to those below!
‘Moolatho Brahma roopaaya,
Madhyatho Vishnu roopinae,
Vriksharajaaya thae namha”
” മൂലതോ ബ്രഹ്മ രൂപായ,
മധ്യതോ വിഷ്ണു രൂപിണെ ,
അഗ്രത ശിവ രൂപായ.
വൃക്ഷ രാജായ തെ നമ ”
I pray, closing my eyes, recollecting the hymn displayed near a similar huge tree in the Sreekanteswaram Temple premises, which I visited earlier.
Now we talk about the necessity of saving the Nature; our elders worshiped her!. Circumambulated them, in reverence, performed their wedding by tying yellow and saffron threads. How thoughtful!.
And there are also, mosquitoes, those insignificant insects, surprisingly flying so high, invading therough the narrow openings and humming to annoy me, close to my ears as if I am a deaf . How efficiently they search my blood vessels, stealthily suck my blood and fly of proclaiming their victory.
The other day, I had been to a similar high-apartment and was pleased to see a harsh-voiced, dark skinned crow, approaching the widow- sill to collect the snacks served affectionately by the house lady, The moment she was sure of the feed, the bird invited her friends and relatives and in group, enjoyed every piece of the food made available.
I remembered my father anxiously awaiting, on the terrace of our house, holding a ball of rice, sanctified by Vedic hymns, inviting the crows, shouting, ‘ka,ka’ and we, children, behind him, clapping hands and shouting, ‘ka ka’ still louder. The contentment on my father’s face, the moment a crow responds to his shout and pricks with its beak, the white ball of rice, placed on the parapet of the wall, after cleaning the area with water meticulously. If the crow had faced the side where the Sun rises, while collecting the food, my father’s eyes opens up, face brightens with a benign smile. Our father believed that the crow was none other than his forebears in disguise, from another world. What a crazy man, we didn’t say then.
No wonder why the majestic papal tree shelters crows and not mosquitoes.