There is a garden in my apartment complex. My apartment windows face this garden and I stand and gaze out many times during the day.
Early morning before sunrise, there is this one bird who talks alone before anyone else wakes up. He is the first bird, and he talks incessantly - repeating the same sounds. I am not sure if he is happily chatting or cursing us, but I love his talks.
The squirrels keep scurrying along all day. They have a tree of their own right in the center of the garden. They even visit our windows daily. The sparrows also have their own tree, so do the wild parrots. Each species claiming a tree for their community - to live, build nests, bring young ones, chirp and sing and hop around and fly - to LIVE!
It's a busy garden. So many small creatures calling it home.
Watching them is like stepping into a parallel world where there is no memory of pain and struggles of human existence. It is far removed from our ego issues, tax issues, money problems - the constant push and pull of just about making it far enough to survive.
To what end, though? What are we acheiving exactly? This garden will continue on, this apartment complex will have the residents, the road outside will remain busy, the shops will keep a constant flow of goods and humans. Nothing will change. Whether we continue to be or otherwise.
The sun will rise and set. The waves will ebb and flow. The tides will keep their schedule. The winds will blow. The rain will continue to fall.
Life goes on. People stop existing. More and more of them nowadays. Falling sick, snuffed out like so many candles. Today someone woke up in the morning and went about their routine. Tomorrow's morning will rise without them. We will look up to the stars and remember the absent. Then we will snuggle into our beds and silently cry tears of regret and pain.
There is so much loss. Loss of livelihood. Loss of homes. Loss of love. Loss of life itself. Wherever you look, it is a story of strife and struggle. Humanity just trying to cope.
Broken shards of glass, living inside each heart and constantly piercing with reminders. Millions of hearts bleeding inside living bodies, going about their mundane existence with a smile on their faces. Wounds which refuse to close. Refuse to heal.
Some rainbow emerges for a while, giving small hopes and strength to go on. It takes you a little further, only for that strength to be depleted, and then sputtering this happiness to a complete halt all over again.
The feet drag on. The day rises. We get out of bed and continue. Yet another day of waiting, anticipating - either a new hope or an end to everything once and for all. Neither arrives, and back to bed we go, spent and defeated.
Day after day after day like this, only feels better with views of our small garden. This parallel world which doesn't care about diseases and depression of human minds. This world continues its peaceful existence. Nature in miniature. This is the only constant, in the daily changes around me which I can't handle anymore. Escaping into this innocent world is the only hope I have which keeps me going. The grassy pathways, the verdant foliage, the chirping and twittering, the tiny lives which are happy in their little existence close to nature.
The various colourful flowers which swish, sway, scatter petals, attract butterflies and bees. The rain which patters away on paved paths and grassy mounds. Washing and cleansing everything in its wake.
I remain enclosed inside my home. Waiting. Anticipating. Something should turn up soon, something happy, something hopeful. Dreading to know of more loss, I unplug from society. This conflict pulls me both ways until I split into multiple pieces.
I gather the pieces and try to mend myself. A shoddy repair work. Damaged and shattered. Pieced together by mere existence. Living is long forgotten. All I now am is, I exist - and that is all.
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