How Much Longer Can I Hear the Chirping Birds
I had ought to begin writing this when the sky is a mellow pink during the time of Savitr, the hours of pre-Dawn, and yet I begin to write this at night only a few minutes before my bedtime, where today I notice the waxing, crescent moon, which wholly describes the mood of this essay. I have written this on a computer that too; which is terrible for the eyes just before bed. But this has felt to me a time when the correct wave of thought has hit me.
I apologize if this essay gets on your nerves, I would direct you to Walking to Enchay (Once I finally complete it) for something longer, lighter, and more wholesome. But this shall be more a stream-of-consciousness; kind of writeup, as one could make out from the title perhaps. The title by the way; is not irrelevant; it is the core of what I am to discuss.
It begins with the aforementioned hours of pre-Dawn, when I usually rise from my slumbers (at least on most days), the sky is a pinkish-blue, the air is cool, even in the summers; and there is a milky quiet. The motions of the mind feel smooth in this hour, one’s eyes are not hurt by the outburst of the excessively radiant sunlight; but are rather pushed to adjust to the new day by a beautiful diffused dose of light. Till when it is still dark one, can brush their teeth and recite their prayers, and then after, sit to watch our beloved disk of fire rise, a warm amber against the cool violet blue. It is during this period when one can hear the Birds starting to Chirp.
I shall never forget these musical avians when I come to count my blessings; for they are to me the symbol of contentment, which I consider the perfect state for a living being. Their chirps calm our minds, but not numb them, they remind us that there is beauty in the world, no matter how dire things may seem; they remind us that we are not alone, and we are not separate from the world, we inhabit this beautiful Earth, it is forever our companion. I enjoy the feeling of pulling open the sliders of my window to hear the chirping of these birds so very much, I do it almost every day and the bliss I derive never seems to fade; and yet today morning that joy seemed to fade with a pretty grim realisation.
There exists many an urban area, where all one can hear of birds are the rather mundane pigeons and crows (not to offend any pigeons or crows reading this, but you have become quite a common sight at this point and invoke little to no excitement in me). The smaller birds, along with their melodious throats are driven out by the lack of suitable habitat. I too, live in an urban area, but I am blessed enough to enjoy these melodies each morning due to living near an area with hectares of cantonments, which have a great load of trees and untouched forests, combine that with my own housing society, which maintains a good variety of trees and other flora of its own (the same cannot be said for all societies), I am a very fortunate urbanite.
But what scares me is the potential future where this fortune shall wither. I see more and more people use damaging fireworks for the most menial of celebrations, their explosions leave the aerial fauna shocked to the points of permanent migration or death. I see as my region of residence builds more homes, leading to more people, more cars, more beeps and honks, more smoke, more deforestation, oh I can't! It is selfish to hope that more people stop coming here, for what is the fault of the people who come to cities for nothing but a better life? But again, what is the fault of the poor birds that get driven out because of this? I am not entitled to hear the melodies of the morning, but is it wrong to feel awful when they are taken away from me? The sad part is that I can whine and lament all I want but I can exercise little to no control over this, What Can I do?
So, is it even worth getting sad about this? Yes, it is, of course it is! But is it worth worrying about it? I would say no, not in this situation. Here, I am being irrational, for worrying about anything that we cannot influence is a waste not only of our mental capacity but also of our sanity, for our thoughts shall affect no one but us; worrying about this loss of beauty shall not cease it, but it shall stop us from enjoying the beauty while it is still there. Imagine the scene of dawn which I described a few words back; but now, instead of feeling a deep bliss when hearing the birds, one thinks of the doomed reality of the nature around us; "This beauty I see, it shall soon perish!". To hell with that thought!
Think of your life if you looked at everything through such a lens, how awful would your existence become? Imagine looking at those whom you love and wondering; "They too shall be consumed by the fire of cremation one day" How awful is that? What about a simple pleasure, say, a warm bowl of soup on a cold night; how terrible would it be to ponder upon the utter impermanence of the experience, for the pleasure of this meal shall only last as long as you are having it, or till the bowl goes cold. When we come to look at it, nothing we do is within our whims. Every act we derive any amount of joy or satisfaction from is brittle in its nature, today it is here and tomorrow it may not be. How can we call anything we love and hold dearly a constant? We cannot. We must learn to accept the degradation of that which we might hold dearly, you could be proud of some work you have accomplished, but if your joy and pride lie in the actual, material, result of the work, you shall soon be overcome by misery; for any joy of that nature is perfectly impermanent.
Only those whose bliss and satisfaction comes from their withins are safe from the ever-changing circumstance, for they are not affected by the impermanence of nature, they shall derive satisfaction only from the acts they do, with no attachment to anything that is not within their domain. They are those accomplished people who will work for the love of the work and not for any fruit that it may yield. They are such people who will put everything they have to achieve something, have it snatched away by fortune, take a deep sigh, and begin once again; unphased.
Describing a person such as the one above is rather elementary, but being one is a difficult, almost herculean task. How can someone detach themselves in this way I wonder? How can someone control the temperature of their thoughts? Anyone who has delved into the philosophy of happiness through either of the eastern or western disciplines knows well these characteristics, but how many people exist who actually embody them? How can one embody them? Well, if you came here looking for an answer to that (joke's on you, how did you even come here?), you are to be disappointed. Because as it turns out, a person who is barely an adult, and who has close to no real-world experience, does not know how to achieve this perfect human state, so I cannot give you an answer (shocking, I know).
The only reason I have penned this work is to let out this fear, as a temporary cure perhaps, to this damaging view of the world I seem to have developed. All I want to do is realise that worrying about something’s future snatches from us even the joys of its present. We have many people who tell us to let go of the past; fair enough. But sometimes, I believe, it is important to let go of the future too; and just Enjoy the birds' song in the morning, without a care for the world beyond it.
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Badwriting by Aksat Upadhyay