This beautiful creature landed on our balcony yesterday and I obviously ran inside to get my camera and click this picture. There was a time when butterflies were a common sight at least here in the mountains. But blame climate change (which is actually a real phenomenon Mr. Trump) we don’t see many butterflies these days.
When I was a little girl, I once found a cocoon in our terrace garden. It wasn’t attached to a plant and was probably dead or already metamorphosed into a butterfly but not for me. I put together some stones to built a little house for the cocoon. I covered the floor of the house with grass, made a bed with flower petals and kept a bottle cap filled with water inside it. And from that moment I started waiting for the butterfly to come out of the cocoon. I would go to the terrace every morning expecting to see a butterfly but go back in despair.
Spring turned to summer, summer to fall and fall to winter but there was no sign of a butterfly. Finally, on a wet snowy morning I went to the terrace and gave up on the hopes of seeing a butterfly come out of my cocoon. I think it was the first time in life that I came face to face with the notion of death. I cared for the cocoon for months, hoping it would grow into a beautiful little creature but then reality dawned upon me that it was dead. I dug out a little grave, covered it with leaves and laid it to rest.
If you have come so far in the story, you would probably think that I was a loner in childhood. Well, I did have friends, but I guess I preferred being alone. I would roam in our garden, talk to flowers or little insects and play alone making my own games. I would sit in our terrace for hours, look into the mountains and dream about my future. I would plan of planting an lemon tree in our backyard. I would dream of building a little home for myself, near the Himalayas and seeing snow every day of my life. I would pick up little puppies from road and force my uncle to pet them. And in some particularly crazy times I would wait for a butterfly to come out of a cocoon.
And that was my life. I was in a world with all things dreamy- flowers, snow, mountains, butterflies, birds and bees.
I was happy.
“Of all the sad things I have ever read, ‘I used to be so happy” is the most heartbreaking of all.” – Nikita Gill
And now, when I see butterflies I think about global warming, about climate change, about the American President, about little kids who die malnourished and are buried in tiny graves, about a world where humanity has lost its soul and people are ready to kill each other in the names of religion, caste or race.
Adulthood has ruined us. The world was so much better when I was a little girl with a dead cocoon.