Skip to main content

My own slice of nature

When I moved to Gurgaon in 2011, what I really loved the city was that it had so much space! There were gardens (in every sector), trees lined the roads, and my marital home was lined with flowering plants. I guess living in Mumbai; an uber urban jungle always had me longing for space, especially a little green nook for myself.

I achieved this briefly when I moved into my rented place, but then we moved to Mumbai again. Back home in Mumbai, we have plants on every window. The almost-floor length French windows in every room let in a lot of natural light, and of course, many birds come visiting. However, the pigeons being feral, they built their nests and ruined everything. To be rid of them my folks put up wired netting to stop from pigeons making maternity homes on our windows.

This stopped all others birds too. But I had hope as I did not allow my entire window to be covered. So the birds can come but won’t access to space to build nests. So far, no maternity nests J

Recently, I realised that all flowering plants – buttercup, hibiscus and roses attract tiny Sunbirds and Parrots. It was the prettiest sight ever. It made me feel great as if I had done something right.

I added a birdfeeder. Filled with Bajra, I awaited the birds much to my pup’s chagrin. He abhors sharing any kind of food. Also, my previous tryst with the birdfeeder on my window had rats eating up the whole thing and keeping us awake the entire night. But this time round… Pigeons came. Yay!

I also spotted a tiny yellow butterfly. Really inconsequential, I know but these little things give me immense happiness. My own slice of nature.


Popular posts from this blog

Mind vs the heart

Follow my blog with Bloglovin

Picture courtesy: Google. Only for representation purpose.
Standing on the highway, Roads leading both ways to somewhere, I stand still and wonder, Where do I belong?
The soothing lullabies of the green mist fairies call.  With promises to wrap me in the cool calm fog, Holding me in wet, gentle caresses, lulling the storm within. 
The call of the shrill, salt-laden sea sirens,  from the sun-baked rocks, Pull me back To join them as they make me one, in the fathomless abyss of wonders unseen. 
I lament my fragile being,  Born with one heart, not two, Torn between the ebb and flow of waves, And earthy scents in muddy dew. 
Both offer me refuge,  Cloaking me whole in their embrace, Dust to dust, flesh to flesh and soul to soul. 
In this battle between the mind and the heart, The heart but loses steam,  Leaving me stranded on a path to nowhere, never to be seen. 
My mind has been wrought with depression and all things crappy. This is a result of binge-watching a…

9 Things My Dog Taught Me About Life

And he has no clue…

I am guilty as charged. Per my husband, I spend every waking minute with my dog. If I am watching TV, he’s by my feet, if we plan an impromptu drive, he wants to come along, and at times, we do take him. My evening walks happen only because I have to take him. My social life is all thanks to him. And if you happen to mention the dog at a social gathering, I can go on and on about the pup even if we have nothing in common otherwise. Hell, I started an Instagram page just for the dog on popular demand!
I can assure you, though the husband isn’t convinced, that its all the dog’s doing. His popularity has only grown over the years, and who can resist those googly puppy eyes? He works his charm on all, irrespective of age, gender (partial to women though), color, and caste. He’s gentle with kids, super active with people who can keep up, he’s sensitive, always ready to share food (only yours) and so much more. His licks and cuddles have the power to melt glaciers and his …

#Sorry not sorry

I feel sorry for ‘Sorry’ – such an abused term. When you come to think of it, it is just a word, right? It holds significance in some instance and at times, it is a mere excuse. But we humans absolutely love it as an excuse, don’t we? I use this term a lot; I mean a lot! I think of myself as a kind being, and hence, if I happen to push or ignore (deliberate), I say ‘sorry’. I say sorry for things that may not need a ‘sorry’. I say ‘sorry’ to people I am not really feeling sorry for (don’t read this the wrong way). In short, I say ‘sorry’ a lot like I have already admitted. It is my ticket to moving on, a ticket to redeem myself for mistakes and sometimes, tinged with slight sadness (maybe).

But is ‘Sorry’ the right word? Mean, is it even appropriate? Like they say, first you commit the murder and then say sorry. What is the point of it? I would say nothing. Sorry – the term originated from the West Germanic term Sore that evolved to Sarig, meaning pained or distressed. It is also known…