305. Make yourselves nests of pleasant thoughts

There are days when I feel low, try to avoid the task at hand, and just close my eyes, sitting under a tree on my farm, devoid of any thought. Today was such a day.

The world feels as if it is slowly disappearing into a dark cloud as I see images from Kyiv and Beirut. Elderly women mourning their husbands and sobbing over their dead sons' bodies. Houses on fire, children running barefoot, and animals leaping about. Where are we heading? 

All religions seem quite burdensome. The Gods and Goddesses worshipped by many appear to be nothing more than stones, and in fact, they are – the last resort to unburden yourselves.

My mind flashed with those frustrating images shared by friends while I watched a pair of birds building a nest, bringing dried grasses and leaves and working tirelessly in the tree beneath which I am sitting; I remembered a poster poem by Bashir Badr that hung in our home for many years. 

Badr was a teacher at Meerut College, and his house was burned down during the 1987 Meerut violence. He lost his home, built with his lifetime savings, and his well-kept home library. 

He wrote this poem at that time, before permanently moving to Bhopal. I met him in 1989 in Delhi, and he recited this poem while telling us all the horror and the flames coming from his home. We were in tears.

लोग टूट जाते हैं एक घर बनाने में

तुम तरस नहीं खाते बस्तियाँ जलाने में

log toot jaate hain ek ghar banane men

tum taras nahin khate bastiyan jalane mein

(People spend a lifetime building a house and you feel no pity burning them down?)

Badr died in Bhopal on May 28, 2026, at age 91. Another of his poems - 

उजाले अपनी यादों के हमारे साथ रहने दो 

ना जाने किस गली में जिंदगी की शाम हो जाए

ujāle apnī yādoñ ke hamāre saath rahne do 

na jaane kis galī meñ zindagī kī shaam ho jaye

 (Let the light of your memories stay with me 
 Who knows in which lonely lane the evening of life may fall)

I also remembered John Ruskin, the Victorian writer and critic. He has written wonderful lines about our inner nests. 

I quote Ruskin: “Make yourselves nests of pleasant thoughts. None of us yet know, for none of us have been taught in early youth, what fairy palaces we may build of beautiful thought-a proof against all adversity. Bright fancies, satisfied memories, noble histories, faithful sayings, treasure-houses of precious and restful thoughts, which care cannot disturb, nor pain make gloomy, nor poverty take away from us-houses built without hands, for our souls to live in.”

I am hopeful to see the beautiful nest tomorrow morning and to feel a little happiness, hoping to get some energy after watching that masterpiece in the tree.