A Walk in the park in Spring

The end of examinations spells the end of many students' worries. Mine certainly did, as would be evident to anyone who checked in on me sleeping around most of the time, with no exam alerts glaring out of the calendar. On one of those Sundays, I woke up early, rolling about on my bed, trying to plan my day around the sudden plenitude of leisure that I had been allocated. Sunlight shimmered in through the gaps in the leaves of the banyan tree just outside my window. I had looked out of that window many a time since I got my room, but today it had a new allure, of the sweetness of Spring floating in the air. Some aspect of that invigorated me, charged my muscles to make me leap out of bed, that whispered in my ears, no more lazing around. It was springtime, and the morning was perfect for a walk in the park.

I completed my morning ablutions (not even Spring can get you out of that one), got dressed, and promptly set out at a brisk pace, having informed my mother of my ambitious plans (exercise not being part of my routine) and having turned down her generous offers of delicious breakfast before I left. The park was close to our house and had been witness to my parents' many attempts to get me to lead a healthier life (one with lots of exercises, that is). Once past the entrance, I noticed the cool breeze playing on my face - not chill-inducing like in winter nor an aid to perspiration like in summer, but just perfect, enjoyable. Praise be to the venerable gods of the wind. A smile peeked at the corner of my lips, then broadened fully into life. This was shaping up to be a delightful morning.

I started walking, following the meandering paths that led past the children's playground, circumnavigated the pond at one end of the park, and cut through the mango and jackfruit orchards that the park authorities boasted of at every opportunity they got. The park itself is large enough that completing a round of the pathways gives any healthy adult moderate exercise. As I continued on my way, the birds merrily chirped away, each with its different tune, as they built their nests anew. The artificial music on the iPod paled in comparison. I had my earphones with me, but they stayed tucked away in my pocket.

Children, whose outings had been cut short in the winter, in fear of catching a cold, were back in the playground utilising the swings and the jungle gym to the fullest extent. Their parents or sometimes grandparents could be seen standing by, looking on with joyful expressions on their faces, yet watchful and ready to help in case of distress. Children playing outdoors is a sure sign of a full-fledged Spring season.

Gradually I increased my pace to a jogging cadence. As I stepped onto the pathway around the pond, I looked in wonder upon the artful display of colours only nature was capable of, in its many inhabitants of the skies. An assortment of migratory birds visits this park in the spring, making their homes in the tall trees, the carnivores among them designating the pond full of fish as their hunting grounds. One may catch a glimpse of many exotic aerial species, besides the mundane swans and ducks that populate the park year-round. A careful observer can spot the start of a new generation, a mother duck feeding her chicks, side by side the abrupt end of another, the alert airborne predator swooping down on the unobservant fish that dodged too late. It is quite a majestic sight, for us onlookers, while a tragic one for the fish that just became food for another. Such is the way of nature.

Many bird lovers and photography enthusiasts line the periphery of the water body, their DSLR cameras on tripods, waiting patiently for that rare opportunity to shoot a bird taking to the air. That pun is not intended, since bird hunting is a criminal offence and strictly prohibited inside the park. Fishing, on the other hand, is allowed in a controlled manner, and one may observe a few souls thus engaged, another example of the imperturbable hunter, sitting with a fishing rod in hand, bait cast for the unwitting fish. White swans can also be seen swimming in the shallow waters, their chicks following closely in a train, being fed from time to time.

As I slowed down to a walking pace once more, I passed through the section of the park that housed the date palms and other tall trees. The flora that provided us with such delectable fruits to enrich our palate had just started to grow flower buds. Glancing up, I caught sight of the plethora of small feathered creatures that had honeyed my ears first thing in the morning. Sporting virtually the entire spectrum of colours on their dainty feathers, they flitted from tree to tree, sometimes gliding to the ground looking for food and materials to build their nests. Some nature-loving individuals stood around feeding the birds with grains. Another heart-warming sight, that members of the same species that waged destructive wars could find such love in their hearts.

The deciduous trees that had shed their leaves in anticipation of winter had once again become green and lively with new foliage. A tribe of our arboreal cousins also calls the park their home. Monkeys with babies hanging from their shoulders accepting edible offerings from their human wellwishers are a common sight. They welcome the season of renewed hope in their own way, chattering away amongst themselves, perhaps discussing some groundbreaking news.

Having completed one round of the park, I sat down on a bench in the central seating area and rested my aching legs. A few meters away, a group of old men and women sat collectively, having a lively and animated discussion of their daily affairs, which could range from the price of petrol to the price of the Prime Minister's coat. As more members joined after wrapping up their walks, they would be met with enthusiastic greetings, the band of elders eager to hear new stories. Intermittently, they would start laughing en masse, as they believe that laughter is good for health. I had to agree as it brought a smile to my lips yet again. The serotonin being released in my happy mind did indeed relieve a great deal of stress.

As I scanned my surroundings, I noticed a few beehives, two of them having grown huge since I last visited the park. The worker bees were buzzing here and there, drifting from flower to flower in their never-ending quest for nectar. Thankfully none of them came close to me or I might have taken flight. I breathed in deeply, the aroma of spring infusing my olfactory receptors, the petrichor of wet earth, of thawing sap and decomposing worms, of freshly cut grass and the hope of better things to come.

I got up, ready to go home, refreshed, full of energy and having gained an invigorating experience. I felt like "God's in His heaven - All's right with the world!"

Thanks for reading!

Deb Argha Saha