And Nature stood still...

KR Bharti

KR Bharti

It was December 31. Wrapped in a quilt, I was sending and receiving ‘Happy New Year’ messages. A variety of recreational programmes were running on the television.

As the day melted into evening, the birds began returning to their nest. Contrarily, the people of our locality were leaving home to get to the Mall and the Ridge to celebrate the New Year. I did not want to lag behind and made a move to the Mall with my family.

There was a sea of humanity. Nevertheless, people did not mind jostling their way to hug and wish one another. Inebriated, some were swinging and swirling on the Ridge. Punjabi tourists were performing bhangra. No worry, the police was on vigil.

We enjoyed dinner in a restaurant and got ready to head back home. My eyes wandered off to the deodars and chinars; to the surrounding hills and mountains; and the star-spangled sky. I observed all the objects of nature intently. They were cool, calm and collected. I found no commotion of any kind in them. The trees were breathing out oxygen without any fanfare. The moon and stars were doling out light as usual. The hills maintained perfect poise. Nature was oblivious to the advent of the New Year.

Back home, we got busy watching television programmes — the sounds drowning out the noise of DJ songs and natis in our neighbourhood. The clock was gradually ticking forward. At the stroke of 12, there was uproar all around. Cries of ‘Happy New Year’ rent the air. There was spectacular display of fireworks in the sky. People began to dance. But the trees and the hills did not move. The moon and the stars did not run helter-skelter to embrace one another.

‘You have not made any gesture of jubilation at the advent of the New Year! What makes you so indifferent?’ I enquire from Nature.

‘What New Year? I never count years. I only know how to move with time. Spring and autumn both are bound to come in life. I am neither overjoyed in spring nor overawed in autumn,’ it replied.

‘But we, humans, cannot afford to be dispassionate like you,’ I taunted it. Nature turned to me and said gently, yet firmly, ‘There is nothing wrong in revelling and exchanging good wishes, but mind you, the years do not change for a song. Nor merely starting a new diary and hanging a new calendar in the house changes the year. It is your perspiration, patience and perseverance that bring true change in life. Don’t you know how I have to pass through scorching summer, drenching rains and freezing winter before spring dawns upon me?’

I listened patiently. I had no answer.