What are your morning rituals? What does the first hour of your day look like?
In a serene village, the narrator begins each day with the cheerful call of a small bird on his windowsill. After expressing gratitude, he steps into a vibrant outdoor space filled with blooming flowers and a nearby river, where he refreshes himself with its cool water. Surrounded by majestic mountains and the awakening of nature, he appreciates the beauty of his environment. As the sun rises, he observes local life and tourists, reflecting on the challenges of increasing visitor numbers and environmental degradation. Despite hardships, villagers persevere, celebrating their culture and traditions while he continues to pray for their well-being.
A small singing bird made a call sitting on the windowsill; its sweet ringing voice was musical. Hopping and chirping, it made different voices, from occasional tit…tit… to long harmonic sounds.
“Have you come, dear?” he whispered, sitting on his bed. The bird was a regular guest. It was its routine. Every morning before sunrise, it used to come and stay on the sill for some time, singing and tweeting, making him awake.
It is a small room, neat and orderly. Constructed simply with sloping roofs in a hut-like fashion, it has a small verandah just before the room. He affectionately thanked his small, winged friend, who had flown away after waking him up.
He came out of the room. Crossing through the verandah, he came out in the open. It is a small open space fenced by stout, painted with green bamboo sticks, affixed to the ground with raised brick rows holding the fence securely. The space was bordered by narrow flower beds. Flowering plants with rich foliage growth and dense tufts were blooming copiously. They presented a colourful sight that pleased him. He started roaming in the open space along with the floral bed, conversing with them affectionately and often tenderly caressing them. The flowers were swinging their head in the pleasant breeze as if reciprocating his affection.
Opening the wooden gate of the fence, he came out. A river flows in the vicinity of the house. The sweet, melodious, but gentle rippling sound is a regular feature. It has become an integral part of his survival. Walking a few steps, he reached the bank of the river.
It is a narrow stream with clean, fresh water coming out from a nearby hill and flowing through some distance near the house; it merges into a more elaborate river. Together, they form a system with many pebbles and boulders, constituting a bed with water flowing through them. The limpid water tempted him. He bowed and cupped some water in his palm and splashed it on his face. The pleasantly cold water refreshed him instantly taking him out of the sluggishness aftereffects of slumber.
He raised his head. Towering mountain peaks are seen standing all around. They seem like sages in deep meditation – silent but vibrant. The gentle slopes of the foothill are densely covered with tall conifers, and understories of soft green grass dotted with peeping lilac flowers of different hues.
The sun has yet not come up, but the darkness of the sky is cleared. The east side of the sky has started becoming crimson. Flocks of birds flew across the sky, and small birds chirped and hopped among the grass in search of berries, seeds and insects.
Sitting on a white shining boulder facing the stream he closely and admiringly observed the drama of life. Nature was awakening after a refreshing night’s sleep. Small patches of cottony clouds drifting lazily in the sky create various shapes. Staring at the sky like pareidolia, he was trying to figure out shapes in the drifting clouds.
As the sun rose high in the sky, the atmosphere wore a different hue and warmth. The clumps of conifers become more lively with stray grazing goats adding a dimension to the ambience. With folded hands and brimmed eyes, he thanked Almighty for offering such a nice view, sweet water and a salubrious environment.
Deeply engrossed in the scenes, he couldn’t realize the arrival of his wife, who sat nearby on another boulder. They sat quietly for some time. She left the place and went inside the house after a while.
Gazing at Nature and admiring her realm, he was overwhelmed with ecstasy. His head bowed down in respect to the grace of the unseen but omnipotent who is all-powerful and benevolent. Getting up from the boulder, he took a few strides along the stream and, taking a curvaceous path, reached the backyard of the house.
The sun has risen high in the sky. He entered his house from the backyard. There is a small kitchen garden in his backyard which caters to his food need. Except for major items, he and his fellow village folks are self-reliant.
Situated at a small height, his frugal house caters to his necessities. The village is a few meters away from his house. The house has no electricity connection except for a solar power panel that stands nearby and gives enough power to light his house and warm water. His water need was fulfilled by the stream which was his primary source of water.
Sitting on a stool in his house beside the window, he saw a small spot in a distant patch of pines. The spot progressively increased in size as it drifted nearer to the serpentine road. The road was more than a kilometre away from his house.
The spot turned out to be a bus. It stopped at a place that was visible from his house. It is a small bus stop with a few tattered shops selling grocery items and a few tea stalls. Tea stalls are situated facing the valley with wooden benches for people to sit and enjoy the view of the valley below while sipping tea. It is summer and peak tourist season.
Tourists come to the hills to get respite from the scorching heat of the plains and enjoy natural beauty. They want a comfortable stay with modern facilities. Sensing demands cupid people arrived here and purchased large chunks of land to make hotels with modern facilities. Thank god, his village remained undisturbed.
The people of the area are kind-hearted and God-fearing. They love their culture and traditions. There is a small temple in the middle of the village. Besides being a pious place the temple serves as a meeting ground for village folks. They congregate here on festive occasions, sing songs in praise of Gods and Goddesses, dance and celebrate.
He observes how the serene hills are getting disturbed. With increasing tourist influx, the environment is gradually degrading. Receding water sources are the cause of concern. The life of village folks, though, is changed but not significantly. In seasons, villagers used to earn money by doing petty work, but that is like a drop in the ocean.
With the change in weather, rain comes, followed by a harsh winter. These are hard seasons that make the lives of local residents difficult. Nevertheless, life has to move ahead. People have learned to fight and survive braving odds. They manage to keep themselves dry and warm. After the harsh period is over, they bloom. Life starts smiling.
Every morning, waking up after the call of a little winged friend, he prays to Almighty for the welfare of people, his fellow villagers and all those who are compatriots. May his wishes be fulfilled. So be it.
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