'' Our Lord ! grant us good in this world and good in the hereafter and save us from the torment of the Fire '' [Ameen]
-
{in Arab} :->
Rabbanaa aatinaa fid-dunyaa hasanatan wafil aakhirati hasanatan waqinaa 'athaaban-naar/-
(Surah Al-Baqarah ,verse 201)
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birds as well
It was one of those lethargic days when you are in no mood to explore
and the mind isaching to kill time. I was in my favourite Malenadu
region in Karnataka and was walking beside a lake near Belur town. A
small mandapam was almost buried in the water, but my attention was
drawn toa flock of cormorants perched on a rock in the lake.
According to the locals, lakes in this region were considered sacred
as they hid several treasures in their depths. In the past, when the
Hoysalas were attackedby different invaders, itis believed that
important sculptures and idols from the temples and even jewellery was
thrown inside the lake to save the treasures from invaders.
I wondered if this lake around me too had its little secret. Chinna, a
local whom I had befriended, told me its name, Bishtama Kere, and
narrated a tragic tale around it. The lake,he said, was named after
Bishtama, a woman who sacrificed herself by drowning in the waters
when she was pregnant. The landhad been barren for many years and
locals believe that her sacrifice brought the rains and fertility back
to the village.
Chinna insisted that herspirit still remained in the waters and spoke
to the people. He got all excited as he added that people used to
throw jewellery into the lake before a wedding so that they were
blessed by Bishtama and in the morning, the jewellery would still be
intact, floating on the waters. I looked at him rather incredulously
and asked when this had happened last in the village. Chinna shrugged
and safely answered that he did not remember.
There's always an element of surprise in every trip. Many a time,I
realised that a traveller's tale had taken me to the most nondescript
place that Ihad often taken for granted. Temples and forts may have
spun yarns of history, but a simple, humble lake had its own story to
tellas well.
A loud, ashy prinia broke my reverie. Chinna had already moved on,
talking to some other villagers. I was suddenly distracted by a flock
of night herons that were breeding and a family of bronze-winged
jacanas. I later learnt that it was the father jacana that brought up
the chicks up, as the mother was nowhere in the picture.
The father was foraging for food with his chicks. Suddenly, the chicks
walked awaywithout heeding the parent's advice and for the next
several minutes, I could hear the father pleading and calling out to
his adventurous chicks. I could not see the chicksfor a while, but
suddenly they reappeared. I was fascinated to watch an animated
conversation between them. Bobbing their heads back and forth in a
rhythmic fashion, they seemed to be nodding and shaking their heads,
probably havinga little argument or narrating their experiences.
Suddenly one of the chicks decided to end the discussion by thrusting
its head under the father's wing. It got under the parent's belly and
shoved him with its beak, asking tobe picked up. As the family spent
the evening at the lake, I could not help but think of how a lake that
could take a life could also nurture it.
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And Allah Knows the Best!
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Published by :->
M NajimudeeN Bsc- INDIA
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