There is never any dearth of plain brown birds. That is why people who recommend that children be taught to take care of the environment, need an exercise in the logistics of mynah watching. Never was nature more avidly worshiped and eagerly sought after than during the examinations. Why, to think of destroying a mynah nest or mowing down green acres that might harbour the lucky four leaved clover was sacrilegious. Every pore in the body would scream at this transgression. This deep fear was more primitive than just ordinary superstition - something that adults whose rationale and lack of intuition hindered their ability to understand.

Respect for the environment was therefore, not something to be inculcated at school. It was in-built. Respect, brought you closer to the realisation that seeing a solitary mynah meant, that the day would start off by getting out off the wrong side of bed. Once you accepted that decision, life was much easier. It's only when one grew up and read books on philosophy that quoted eastern mystics on necessitating a return to the state of oneness, beginning with an acknowledgement of your own insignificance, did one have a sense of deja vu. By then it was already too late and the solemn, solitary mynah on the tree went unnoticed. Again, that was just for starters. The mynahs steadily decreased their number pairs, and the chirping of plain brown birds were drowned by the traffic, while four leaved clovers were being mowed down to make way for a swank golf course...

So, now the new children going to school, probably won't know how to look for mynahs and plain brown birds or four leaved clovers, or rainbows for that matter. They will begin to stop looking at the signs that nature keeps at every corner, and will begin to wonder why they are so unhappy. They will start to ask questions and the adults will talk to them of ambitions and aspirations and how important it is to come first to succeed. They will be told how blase it is to be superstitious. They will learn about science, technology and space, but will forget how blissful it is to wonder. They will learn about the environment and how to stop its destruction, and be thrilled to dissect butterflies in the name of science.

However, all is not lost. There are a few amongst us who haven't lost the ability to wonder. The world calls them lunatics. I love them, for the world would be a boring place without them. Last year in America, a woman climbed a redwood tree and stayed there for a long time, to prevent it from being cut down. She said she was very lonely and missed human company, so she kept in touch with her friends through a mobile phone. Apart from that, the newspaper reports didn't list any other inconveniences. I wonder what she was thinking? Possibly she looked up and saw the mynahs there. Her's must've been a stronger feeling of deja vu. I'm called a bit of a lunatic too. For whenever I see children I remind them solemnly of the mynahs, and promises of pots of gold at the end of the rainbow. Most give me scientific explanations, but there are a few whose eyes still light up with wonder as they exclaim ``Wow!'' For the moment, that is enough...