The Winter-y Mood at Ibaadat!

The scape at Ibaadat is painted in the hues of Winter-y Grey, the dull-ish, passive green of the resplendent flora and foliage that still shines through its unwashed faces braving smog and frost every single day.

And then, there is the stunning Santorinian Blue of Ibaadat adding that special sparkle to everything around with its flair and flourish.

The two large Neem trees are home to a motley crew of birds, bees and animals, that are drawn to the large buffet of food laid across in bird feeders and pretty little bowls hung on giant Iron railings and perched on the parapets.

Invigorating doses of life, with bursts of energy and spurts of excitement at grains being brimmed up, fresh water being served, footsteps of a passer-by, a new bird that may visit or the bunch of cats that descend every other day, are lived out between the living quarters that the Neem trees offer and the huge Dining Hall that Ibaadat caters to.

Between a pair of passing through Indian Grey Hornbills on their weekly or bi-weekly visit, the regular prancing about of Mynahs, Rufous Treepies, Babblers and Doves, the cacophony of permanently residing Parrots and Barbets and Woodpeckers too, it is an euphoric and enlivened enactment being played out, to which we luckily enjoy a ringside view.

The parrots sun themselves on the higher branches, they swing from low-hung twigs, they slide down the railing to where the feeders are placed.

The squirrels make quick, nervous movements up and down the tree, in and out of bowls, scurry along the parapet, play a game of run and catch with each other, and reclaiming their place of privilege at Ibaadat prop themselves on the feeder plates to fill their mouths with grains, munch on them with pleasure and dart sometimes curious, other times overly familiar glances at us, as we sit across watching their tricks and antics.

The Cuckoo bird calls out to announce the rise of a new morning and then calls again to sign off for the day. 

There is this clutch of brown birds, I am yet to identify, that seem to huddle together and chirp in a loud, cacophonous anti-symphonic sounds of a terrible sounding orchestra. They do so every evening and I crane my neck or throw my gaze across and around to catch their sight but I am still to strike it lucky.

A couple of Crows caw, the parrots sing, the squirrels twitter, the Woodpecker comes knocking, the Mynahs sing their tune, the Barbet chimes in; and amidst this play of music and presentation of unique movements we tell the time of day and do the dance of our collective lives!