A chance encounter in the park with a captivating woman named Prakriti sparks a photographer’s creativity and challenges their perspective on life. Is Prakriti a nature goddess, a muse, or something else entirely?

Wait for the sun to rise a little more. Just turn towards the other side, I think you will get a better shot there,” a sweet voice comes from the back. I am busy, my lens is focussed on the Purple Heron in front of me.

Startled, I turn. A very pretty lady, wearing a misty embroidered dress, is standing behind me. She has pink flowers in her ears, a necklace of green leaves and brown seeds. A Purple Sunbird is fluttering around the flowery earrings, a small spider is sitting on the necklace. There seem to be stars in her hair. I am dumbfounded and stare at this strange woman with a beautiful smile.

That dress is odd for a park visit. You either walk in a park, have picnic or simply ponder over your life. If you are very philosophical, then you meditate and exercise on the green grass. But you certainly don’t wear misty, flowing dresses for all these things, unless you are making reels. I mean, people on camera aren’t normal. People, like me, wear normal clothes—walking pants, tee-shirts, loose jackets with pockets and dull walking shoes. I even carry a cloth sling bag for my phone, totally unfeminine, simply functional. Only dating couples are unsuitably dressed in a park. I couldn’t see any companion with her.

Her tinkling laugh broke my rude reverie. She did sound like the Cuckoo. “I love the flow of these colours around me, this easy anarkali helps me twirl with ease. You see, I have to keep moving, for the light must shine all over the planet. These dresses are a boon, and such oomph. The breeze gifted them to me. I enjoy parading in these flowy pieces. They make my womanly heart sing. After all, I am a mother, wife, lover, sister, friend, nurturer, creator, and above all, a woman.”

Hell! Where did that come from? How did she know what I was thinking? My mouth is wide open and I stare at her. This is an odd conversation to have with a woman who looks like an ageless diva and is standing on landscaped ground at the edge of a water body. This is no ordinary nosy auntie. Who is she? I am flustered, yet end up smiling warmly. What is wrong with me?

“I am Prakriti,” she extends her hand, soft, pale, laden with colourful bangles. Her nails are painted in different colours—very trendy. “Let’s go to the other side, the light will change in a few minutes and you can get better composition there. All the beautiful birds, the Indian Spot-billed Ducks, Common Teal, Black-Winged Stilts, Wood Sandpiper are in that part of the water body. There’s also a point where you can go close to the water body.” She picks up my bag and starts walking, more like gliding. Surprisingly, she is bare foot and has brown feet. Her ankles are gnarled. Is this a peacock turned into a woman?

I follow meekly, totally enamoured by her warmth. I have just met her a few seconds ago, but it seems like we have always known each other. There is a connection. But how, I have never met her earlier. You don’t forget women like Prakriti.

I am also not very friendly to strangers. Cities aren’t good for trust and easy friendships, there’s always the fear of betrayals. After five minutes, she would want a donation or talk about some crazy scheme. But my stomach hasn’t tightened nor has my brain gone on high alert.

She sits on the ground near the waterbody, and points out the waterbirds. “We can walk to the shrub area after this. There are many Ashy Prinias and Indian White Eyes there. Do you hear the songs of the Starlings, the common Myna? So lyrical.”

I notice her lipstick, it’s a beautiful shade of fuschia, very off for any normal person. With every moment, the colour seems to change. It looks like orange at one time. I think the sun is also playing games with me.

Suddenly, a Hoopoe comes close, bobbing its head up and down and starts feeding near Prakriti’s feet. I am agape. That’s my favourite bird at the moment.

Shoot, she gestures. I slowly pick up the camera, my hands tremble, focus and click. WOW! I finally got my ‘Hoopoe moment’, something I had been trying for days now. She looks at me knowingly. The Hoopoe is done with posing, it gives a loud call and bobs off to find more food.

“You have to study the light, relax and be patient. Prakriti is never in a hurry. Enjoy the experience, become friends with the birds. Just sit still and never interfere with their home and food,” she says in her singsong voice.

Her long robe flows in the breeze. It seems a little thin for this weather, but the embroidery is beautiful, just about every colour in Nature is there. It shimmers as the rays fall on it–more green, yellow, orange, red than gold and silver. Suddenly, she begins to coo like a dove. Miraculously, a pair of Laughing Doves land at her side. My god, this woman is magical.

The waterbirds come closer to the shore. I begin my photography session. I wish she wouldn’t go away, as the birds like her. They follow her everywhere.

“Show me the pictures,” she puts out her hand towards my camera. “I think you need to practice more, get a new camera also, along with binoculars. Your Nature jaunts are going to increase by the day.”

Was this a prophecy or wish fulfillment?

“I know,” she hears my weary sigh. “Writing doesn’t pay, at least not the work I was doing. I have given up on marketing content. I want to create a beautiful, profitable tapestry with a book, even my website. But nothing seems to be working at the moment. All these are aspirational tools, expensive.”

“Believe in the abundance around you. The breeze of plenty will bring it all to you. See the trees, birds, flowers, the signs of plenty in the world,” she coos again.

“True, but you see how we have messed up the plenty and turned this colourful world into a dark abyss. Do you mean I need to do things differently to keep the colour alive in my life?” my spark returns. I can create a new path, new life of abundance with healthy, colourful pursuits. I am an able person, she believes in me.

“You are getting the idea. Trust in the law of abundance, feel it penetrate your core. The lack is an illusion, abundance is reality, it lives in your heart and soul,” she stretches out on the muddy Earth, in that misty, expensive dress. “The rain will wash away the mud.” She reads my mind again.

Who is this woman? Why am I having this conversation with her? Perhaps because it’s easier to share with strangers, or maybe this lady is a spiritual, psychic being. I look at the phone clock, an hour has passed.

“I should go, I came to the park at dawn and it’s been two hours. I want to miss the exhausting office traffic,” I say, getting up.

She moves slowly, picks up my bag, and says, “Let me treat you to some berries on the way out, they taste like raspberry. Don’t worry, the gardener is my friend. The breeze, birds, butterflies, trees, leaves, clouds, sun, moon, stars, they are all my friends,” she smiles as the rays dance on her face. It’s almost like a caress; the softness of her face is like a healing radiant light. “When you edit your pictures, remember the law of abundance and enhance yourself also,” she says, “dress up, cheer up, add colour to your life, enjoy the creative process. Remember there is no lack in the universe.”

Here I am, discussing my dead life with her. I shake my head and answer, “You are right about a makeover. It’s good for branding. This capitalist century is only about appearances, branding, marketing, the art of falsehood. I feel so lost.”

She holds my hand, like a loving mother, a wise mentor that I never had. “Are you a spiritual person?” I blurt out. I am no longer in awe, I am filled with hope and curiosity.

“We are all spiritual. See the world around you—flowers, trees, bees, butterflies, birds. They all have the spirit of colour, the energy of the sun. These are all my gorgeous creations, even the leaves and wood on the ground. I want you to dress up, smile more, worry less. Be like the sun, moon and stars, tireless. Creators keep working on their creation, while taking care of themselves. Creation takes billions of years. We never give up; we don’t know the phrase ‘giving up’. You must become one with your creation. Be the woman you are meant to be, watch the light. Follow the light, the light is your friend, the light will give you the perfect picture,” she sings a song that lightens my heart and mind. I am lost for words, trying to absorb it all.

She gently puts a twig in my hand, and says, “This is your pen, never stop writing. I am always with you.” There’s an etheric flow of colourful energy around her; she is bathed in the sun’s gold. She gently embraces me, filling my despondent soul with her vibrant palette. Creators keep creating, inspired by the colours of nature to make a new composition. This is my new day, a new life of abundance.

This story is a part of #Storytellersbloghop season 4, hosted by Aura of Thoughts and My Words, My Wisdom (Prompt: Whispers of Womanhood)