Epiphany can strike you anytime anywhere, and pretty much anyone or anyit can be the cause of a profound realisation that could slap you in the face unawares. Here you were leading a mundane life, totally bewildered at the pace at which life is beating the bejesus out of you, and the next moment something really ordinary helps you look at your situation in a different light. Not that it stops life from its blitz attack; it just helps you understand why you have been chosen for the bludgeoning.
So here I was at a client site in a border city of Gujarat safely tucked in, in the middle of a veritable forest, with no access to network, internet, television or any meaningful human interaction. The campus was undoubtedly pretty, but for how long can you appreciate nature with small invisible monsoon keedas finding shelter and nutrition in hitherto unknown crevices of your body. I was the provider of Indira Awaas Yojna and Food Security all in one for these beings. And of course then there were the mosquitoes. I was assured by locals that the mosquitoes here only bite for sustenance and are kind enough to not gift dengue and malaria in the process. But I live in Delhi so my suspicion towards the species is justified.
But despite the absence of internet and TV and the presence of bugs and well-mannered mosquitoes, my stay here was passing quite pleasantly thanks to all the uncity like sites I got to see – forests, birds, clean streams, rivulets, people looking at you out of curiosity and not perversion. But even amidst all this beauty and friendliness what really captured my attention was this beautiful peacock that strutted on the campus fearlessly. Now I am sure most of us have seen a peacock. If not in the wild than at least in a zoo. It’s unarguably a glorious creature. Entire books can be dedicated to its beauty and magnificence. The blue of its glittering elegant neck can be compared to sapphire. Some may say its eyes are more compelling than Rekha’s. But this is not why this particular peacock stood out. It wasn’t its colours or the shape of its eyes. This one stood out because this peacock had no self-respect.
The first time I saw this bird with no dignity, it was perched on one of the stone benches seemingly content and occasionally making a call to eve-tease some of the peahens residing on the campus which I presume were his wives or at least harem members. It seemed this mister did not believe in the uniform civil code. Like everyone else I was struck by the creature’s splendidness.
It was at that moment that I hoped against hope that I get to see one of the rare events that only a lucky few get to see in their lifetime –a peacock dance. We all know the folklore that says peacocks dance only in the rain. As romantic as that idea sounds, the reality which as we all know is a bit crude. Peacocks dance when they wish to, well… to use a common metaphor, scratch ‘the’ itch. Well, you get the drift. Anyway, so here I was praying that I get to see this lovely bird dance. In the hope of at least getting a good picture I dared to go a little closer and pointed my camera at it.
No sooner had I done that, Mr. P.C jumped from his throne and looked to be walking away, as if this intrusion in his alone time had offended his sensibilities. I was about to close my phone camera in disappointment when, you wouldn’t believe, the majestic animal unfurled his feathers, made a perfect semi-circle with it and started moving his feet in a perfect ta ta thaiya rhythm. Now and again it would look at me sideways as if making sure I was watching. Of course I was watching. I was mesmerised. I wanted to stay for the entire show but it was nine in the morning and the drudgery of work beckoned.
But I could not have been more grateful. I get to see the peacock dance on the very first day of my stay. Now I could die in peace. With that happy thought I was off to work. Four hours later I am coming back to the same spot as it was on my way to the mess area and the protagonist of the story is perched on the same stone bench. As I get closer he looks at me sideways, gets off the throne, unfurls his feathers and starts dancing for the second time in the day. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Second time in a day! It was beautiful.
This time I watched the whole performance, which lasted for about eight minutes. I went for my lunch with a huge grin on my face. If this could be my office, forever I would work even on Sundays.
But after this point things started becoming, well, a bit creepy. Every time I passed the stone bench where the bird was permanently stationed, he would hop off and start dancing. The dude danced four times a day on an average. And every time he would be on my path to the office or on my way back. It was magnificent the first time, beautiful the second, pleasant the third time but fourth time onwards that damn bird was just a pest. Ok, it was pretty. But that didn’t mean it had to dance all the time. This bugger was a braggart of the worst kind. I mean, didn’t it have any other work. Dude, go hunt or something. Do whatever other peacocks do. And why announce to the whole world four times a day that you are horny.
So after a while I dreaded going past the stone bench, because I knew that nuisance of an animal was waiting there to block my way and give another Dance India Dance performance. The last day of my trip I was prepared to fight my way through this torture. I went past the stone bench and the moment this guy was about to dance I yelled at it – “Go away you useless creature. Leave me alone. Have some self-respect. Aaaaaghh…!”
And this is when the epiphany struck me. Even something as magnificent as a peacock dance loses its sheen if seen one too many times. But the bigger epiphany was that we all have something as magnificent as the dance of a beautiful bird in our lives. Just because we see it every day we stop valuing it. Doesn’t mean it’s not magnificent anymore. Fault is in our outlook.
I stopped my screaming. For the last time I stood there near the stone bench and watched that damn horny peacock dance.
shivangirai@gmail.com
