Life, they say, is a blessing in disguise
In the last one year that an unseen virus jumped the food chain from the endangered bat to the ubiquitous batman, enveloping our lives with the overpowering stench of death, our little Garden of Babylon, that rises from earth to sky, has grown into a maternity home for mothers across conviction, colour, creed, class, community and country of origin.
A 40-year-old potted banyan alone has been nest, first to a stray, and now to a fly-by-night operator, delivering their litter of pups and a brood of chicks, in its shade. And in between them, a sparrow has hatched her eggs, a squirrel has suckled her kits, a butterfly has laid her larvae, a queen bee has raised her army.
And another 40-year-old potted plant, a common cactus, has bloomed with the most amazing flower.
Yet, none of these just-born ever asked us for a hand to survive. They happened.
What do these beings tell us, really?
They tell us that the all-powerful divine dwells in each of us. They tell us, where there is darkness, there is light. Where there is failure, there is hope. Where there is death, there is life. Where there is dismay, there is always a blessing in disguise.
And what about us?
We feel blessed by The Presence!
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