A Day at the Wetlands

Wild & Teeming

There are days when even good poetry doesn't help the longing created by the memory for something teeming and wild. Its like a visit to the wetlands … with water stagnant in shallow pools … where tiny fishes dart hurriedly among the grasses. And the way the dragonflies are almost stationery … in mid air … waiting to mate. The butterflies that display all colors … that fly from flower to flower … and then move on.  The sounds of birds chirping fills the air … like a hasty conversation.

 

I am left speechless on such occasions … and the mind roams to places … when speech wasn't so important. Like the days of my childhood … walking barefoot in streams … looking for fish … or shooting birds with the catapult … and climbing the trees for ripe guava. And then I sometimes feel a rush to dash away from all the places I've been … and to muse about the scenes I haven't seen. So I open the doors of my imagination and I reach for this girl … I know of … but have not met.

 

The year is 60,000 bc. Speech wasn't yet a big thing. It is a wetland like any other … near the Tigris and Euphrates rivers. Torak a fishermen who lives with a tribe … had made a flute from reed … and was producing some fine sounds from it … in the still Sumerian weather. Powyin … a young fair damsel … strolled to the river to collect water in an earthen jar … when she heard the beckoning tones of the flute float down towards her.

 

She was dressed in deerskin … and had long pretty legs. She stopped … and turned to find the source of the sounds. The early morning mists hid much of the view … so she pushed back the reeds … to walk towards the haunting melody. It sounded just like her … when she hummed to her little brother to put him to sleep.  Her lithe body brushed past the reeds … and she moved with ease.

 

It was the sound … it made her feel light … like she could suddenly leap into the air. It was moanful and she almost felt like she knew what it meant. Then there was the long wailing sounds … that made her stop … and instinctively cover her blushing with her palm. It was speaking to her! It said … ' A man might be an interesting companion … about now. ' But the law forbids married women from going to the skirmishes they sometimes engage with the other tribes.  

 

It paused for a while … and then continued. This time it had a chirpy beat … was fast … and mixed with the high and low notes. It made her laugh. She quickened her pace … and there he was … Torak … whom the tribe said … can hear fish swimming under the reed boat. He stopped to smile at her. They exchanged signs … and some basic word sounds … and he showed her the flute. She looked at it … with eyes that was seeing magic … a wonder never seen … a friend for life.

 

She made him play again. He started with something slow … but couldn't resist the impulse … to rush into something fast … with high tones. He had this strange urge to see her smile. She was growing flushed … from the music.  She got up and and with swinging arms … she turned on her feet to the melody … to feel the rush of the wind on her face. He gave her the flute … then stood up … to smile at her happiness. His eyes twinkled … hers was a sky of stars.

 

She rushed back with the jug of water. Her mother was dressing the chicken in the back porch. She motioned to her to listen and played some notes on the flute. The sounds were halting but she got off a few bars … with some musical tones. The cat at the kitchen door … shrieked something awful and took off … from the house. The dogs howled in accompaniment … and kept at it. It was a ruckus and she couldn't do it any more.

 

She practiced some more … before lying down to sleep. But as she hit the grass bed … she was consumed by Celt images … much of them random. She saw a giant lizard with three horns … who was standing next to her mother. And then there were these men … whose faces resembled tree trunks. After that … there was this girl … whom she thought must be from another tribe. She wore a grass skirt and was topless.

 

The girl was walking behind some trees … to peer at something that resembled a monster. It had four wheels … with a huge arm extended in front. Its body had a shine like the spear head … and it appeared to be stuck in the mud. Around the monster there were countless trees that had fallen … like they have been chopped with an axe. She felt a tremendous exhilaration rush through her … from the experience … and brought her feelings to a pitch.

 

The next day … when she mentioned the images to her mother … her mother warned her about the flute. And told her to throw it away … lest the evil one … steal her youth and beauty.  She shrugged it off … went out with the fishing rod and made her way to the river. She was glad she didn't tell her mother about the long stone building she saw … with a dome on top … and that tall obelisk ... in front of it. But for now … she had something on her mind. Torak might be at the river.

 

There's a large wetland area … just south of here. Its about a 15 minutes drive. Its all around a river … and its filled with fowls … birds … and the fish in the water splash as they swim by. Its right across the road … from a housing area … not too far away from the road to the airport. The river is a popular fishing spot … and the anglers sit amidst the squawking and shrieking of the wild fowls … on the other side.

 

A tractor trudges unsteadily on the road to the airport. It makes me wonder about how much we know already … and what secrets we share in our experiences of wonder. How much of it do we really understand? And I wonder about how I need a pretty girl … to allow myself a little musing. It must be her response. It reminds me of how I met the ex-wife.