Monday 26 January 2015

Robins and Rainbows

Well, four weeks into the New Year and I'm staring out at a panorama of greys .... the bright, grey, London winter sky; the various shades of grey of the trees, wood stripped of leaves and just the slightest hint of green made by the little patches of moss that grow up in the branches when winter's freezing fingers strip away the foliage.  

Even the evergreen bushes have a grey sheen to them, catching the reflected colour of the sky above.  And this morning I watched as a grey squirrel burrowed into the grass, reclaiming his prize - some nuts or a bulb that he secreted there so many months before.  

Although I'm not a big fan of the grey squirrel (I prefer the red squirrels that are now only found in the northern regions of the UK), I can't deny that they look cute, especially when they shake their tails, which shimmer like silver dresses on a ballroom dancer, or when they chase each other, streaking up & down the trees, jumping from one to another and shrieking their excitement..!

One of the regular features of our UK winters - and a bright, colourful, fiery orange/red contrast to the rest of the grey surroundings - is the humble Robin.  They flit in & out of the lower bushes, protecting their little nests and feeding their young from the scattered seeds & nuts, especially under the ubiquitous 'Bird Feeders' that so many of the British place in their gardens.



They are exquisitely happy little creatures and I frequently get into conversations with them -  the Robin tilting his little head back and his neck and chest quivering as he warbles, tweets and trills, cocking his head in surprise and outrage when I reply with a rather sad whistling imitation ...!

For both Julia and myself, the Robins hold a more poignant, special place in our hearts - as we both lost a parent late in the year and were surrounded by Robins in the aftermath (funerals, etc), so they have become the virtual embodiment of our respective Mother & Father. 

We engage them in conversation and they make us smile with their happy, cheerful tunes, often jumping along the ground, or on a fence, right next to us as we move about the garden.  

I had a long conversation with an especially plump and colourful fellow last week - as he sat on my Mum's dustbin outside her flat.  I think he was after some seeds - Mum goes out every day with various bits & pieces to feed the birds.

However, with the strains of Mr Robin's song reverberating in my head, I had pause to think of some other colourful injections into my life during the cold and grey.  More specifically, special friends - who bring colour into the drabness of winter.  Our own special rainbows!

On Friday evening the children came over for dinner.  It had been meant as a chance to catch-up with ALL the children, Godchildren included.  Unfortunately the G/c had to cancel at the last minute as their Grandmother was ill ... so we went ahead with Lauren, husband Ryan and Joseph (whose fiancee was on a business skiing trip!).  Immediate family.



For many years now we have been blessed with the services and friendship of a lady called Naseema, who provides cleaning services to Julia & I, as well as my Mum and even Lauren & Ryan (among other families).  She has become a good friend over the years and, in the last months & weeks of my Dad's illness, she was one of the few people he felt comfortable with (despite the fractures in his mind, he always remembered her and was happy if he could hear her in the flat as he sat trapped in his immobile body and splintered mind).

Naseema is a Muslim lady, devout in her faith and a peace-loving, good humoured mother of three and wife to a lovely man. Husband and wife come from an area split when Pakistan gained independence from India, so they have families in different countries separated by a few miles (but in practice very separate).  They have experienced trouble and division (religious and political) in their lives, yet they epitomise the behaviours claimed by many of the principle religions .... love, family values, peace, generosity of spirit, charity ..... the things most of us would like to be associated with.


Anyway, for some time Naseema has been offering to cook for us - a proper, home-cooked Indian meal.  Unfortunately my wife has extremely sensitive tastebuds and avoids chilli and curries, but she eventually decided that this would be a wonderful opportunity for us to share some of Naseema's generosity.

Well, Friday evening arrived and Naseema and one of her daughters arrived ... talk about bearing gifts & goodwill..! 

Samosa, kebabs, roast chicken, lamb curry, chicken curry, freshly made Naan bread, Pilau rice, Biriyani and a variety of accompaniments.  What a feast..! More than enough for all of us .... and bags of food carried off home by the ever-hungry younger family members.

And it struck me that this simple act of kindness is such a special thing.  It didn't only bring the most wonderful flavours and aromas into our home.  It brought colour and fun and variety (truly the spice of life..!) and shared something intimate between two families (the food had been prepared for the whole day by Naseema, as well as her husband and children).

And in a Charlie Hebdo world that is being battered by religious fanaticism, it highlighted for me (once again) that most people are just like you and me.  They want to live peaceful, happy lives.  Lives with family and friends, where we celebrate our differences as well as our similarities.  Where a simple gesture of kindness is met with a reciprocal act, a smile, a laugh, or a shoulder shared to spill some tears.

I know that Naseema has swapped tears with my Mum - they have developed a mother-daughter relationship (Naseema's Mum died on the Indian subcontinent a few years ago, not long after Mum lost my Dad).  I know they practice different religions too, but when you strip out the customs, the theatre, the 'perceived wisdom' of often none-too-wise religious leaders, they are pretty similar at their core.

Love, respect, support, charity ......

And so, as I ponder on another of life's little gifts, the grey of winter seems a lit less grey, a bit brighter, a bit more colourful.  In this case, the colour of a Sari, a bowl of rich, red saffron stamens or a pile of yellow/gold rice.  And popping their heads out of the snow - some snowdrops and a few VERY chilly, buttercup yellow Daffodils.









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