Birdsong in the city

I love to listen to birdsong in the middle of the city. You can only do this if you concentrate on what's outside of you, in a moment of silence. I first heard them while sitting on a yoga mat with my eyes closed and my brain poised on emptying -- first you hear the buses, then you can make out the car horns, and then chugging of the tuk-tuks. Then you listen a little more, and you hear the birds that are vying for attention with their big steel competitors.

It's just one of those things you take for granted in a city like Colombo, which still has green life, despite the 'development' and dust and muck of too much humanity.

Today, I listened to the birds while trying to cat-nap in the middle of the day. It's never intentional -- more like a slow awakening to what lies beyond these windows and doors. As I lay, fitfully turning, I realised I was restless because there was so much NOISE. The sound of cooking in the kitchen below, the vehicles on the roads outside, the man bathing outside my window (nope, don't know him), and the damn bird. The bird was at it with stacatto beats - chirp.chirp.chirp. It was drilling into my skull, not giving the nap a chance in hell. I groaned. But then I heard (or, tuned into) another cry. He was a plaintive cheeper, sounding like a "comooon listen to me toooo, comooon listen to me tooo". He would give Mr. Staccato the lead and insert the odd plea. A few minutes later they were joined by a real Mr. Brightside -- chripy chirp chirp; translating from Bird to English, I would say it was "Oh, yeah, it's Friday! Oh yeah! I'm happy!".

Above and beyond the buses and the garbage trucks trundling towards their mundane destinies, the three little birdies serenaded me into sleep.