The island on Sarobar Lake

The island is a raised platform of earth in the middle of the Sarobar lake. From the banks of the lake, the island looks like heaven, stuff that paradise is made of! The size of the island may not have been much bigger than a circle of approx. 20 meters in diameter. On days when the surface of the lake is ruffled by the wind, the island appears to float freely, a dense mass of greenery amidst the bluish-black waters of the lake.

I don’t think anyone has ever set foot on this island. The serenity of the island proves beyond doubt that it has escaped the attention of humanity. The creepers that grow on the trees and fall into the waters of the lake below have a darker shade of green than the green of the leaves of the Gulmohur and other trees on the island. If the island had witnessed the invasion of mankind, these creepers would have been the first to bear the brunt of the human invasion-torn from the trees to make way and trampled under the feet of the humans. Instead it grows wild and free, in every direction that it can cause there is no one to challenge its growth. The birds that make this island as their abode have no fear of these creepers blocking their path of flight. I watch the occasional kingfisher indulge in a bit of play-swinging from the branches of the creepers, as it waits patiently to sight a fish in the waters of the lake. The gleam of silver, reflected from the scales on the fishes’ back attracts the Kingfisher’s attention and it immediately leaves its abode amongst the swinging creepers and is transformed into a streak of blue-a blue dart cutting through the air and aimed at the streak of silver. I watch this play of colour every morning from the sides of the lake as I come for my morning walk and am instantly filled with a sense of joy and happiness.

The island is an abode for birds of different hues and sounds. The parrots prefer the safety of the big trees and therefore live in the upper branches of the Gulmohur and other trees. The swans and the ducks prefer the lower stunted bushes and shrubs that are closer to the water. Every now and then when they are tired of swimming and feel like catching a bit of the sun on their back, they would flap their wings and take off, circling a bit over the waters before settling on the shrubs and the branches that hang low, almost touching the lake’s waters. The parrots are the noisiest of all, if you do not take into account the cuckoo during the spring time. Every now and then the parrots would let out a loud screech and dash out of the upper branches of the trees-this time a flash of green that quickly disappears over the waters of the lake and over our heads into the horizon. In the morning, I feel that they probably fly towards the rising sun, to greet it and pay their respect for bringing light into their world.

“What a beautiful place,” says my daughter, as she accompanied me one morning for the morning walk.

“Wish I could live there!”

I did not have the heart to disappoint her but I did tell her a story. Of how the world had also been like that island once. How the forests had been the abode of birds and the colours of the flora and fauna had been a feast for the eyes! Till the humans came and decided to establish their supremacy on all things around them! Till man decided that they wanted to get out of the jungle and choose to live in a concrete jungle that they could paint with their own artificially devised colours! Having chosen to do so, it is now impossible to go back.

The island jungle is safe till it is in the middle of the lake and cut off from mankind’s reach. I wish it would remain this way and beyond the reach of everyone, forever……