Warning: Wild fiction ahead, mind your sense.

No, nothing to do with J. Bond or blowing up a large installations for the greater good.

I could have written about the day of someone in the corporate world, who I might be acquainted with varying amounts of misfortune, or even my day, but that would be rather boring even for the patient, let alone me, and certainly not you, dear reader. Such a day is barely of any interest to anyone, I think the story of what M experienced on a special day might just allow you to have a small vicarious adventure.

On this special day M greets a slightly misty morning with a sense of joy and enchantment. There is so much promise, so much to do and so little time. What a lot to explore! A canopy of lush variable striking green stretches out, virtually unending, dotted densely with colourful clumps of flowers at various distances. A botanists treasure trove. Somewhere in that canopy dangerous creatures might be lurking, but M’s well developed instincts don’t trigger any alarm and there is a relaxed sense pervades.

At the same time M is imbibed with a sense of a mission. What is the mission? Ah, that is a bit difficult to say. But, no worries, it is a good idea to have refreshments before setting off. Stopping for a few wonder filled moments to take in the colour, the mystery of the surroundings and basking in the gentle rays of an earlyish Sun, M is all set. Not worrying, not knowing about the creatures, M spies a sudden movement ahead. What on earth is this! A bright flash of colour, a bright mix of various blues, of much lapis lazuli, a bit of cyan and some azure hues. Time stood still as M marveled at this unforeseen, actually never seen before butterfly. M doesn’t think, at least not consciously, of being a lepidopterist, but is gazing in wonder for a long while, as this unknown butterfly flits hither and thither. The Sun is a surely higher, and the wonderful butterfly is friskily moving from stem to flower to leaf to nothing, and certainly seems on top of the world. The butterfly alights presently, seemingly contentedly on a bright wild marigold.

M would dearly like to behold this wonder, and without thinking hurries forward to get it, closes on it with filament encrusted wafers, but the sparkling thing flits away equally swiftly and gets away. This surprises M for some reason, and triggers another lunge. No use, whatsoever. M is temporarily nonplussed, but renews the chase soon. The little glorious thing flutters by effortlessly and starts going around a cluster of flowers with an elegant but jerky movements so typical of butterflies, reminiscent of the great Ali as some solid citizens would say (hmmm… solid at the top possibly). M follows, round and round; the twosome engage in a merry dance,for a interminable duration and it seems to becoming increasingly frenetic. At least it is for M, not at all for the fairy like blue creature. M enjoyed this at the start, for what a fascinating creature was the object of the chase. But M is tired now, and carves refreshment, and is happily distracted to partake in some. The butterfly lazily hurries away. M keeps the attractive creature in peripheral view and takes in the changed surroundings.

It is much warmer now, the cool morning dissipated, what was nice and bright earlier is now quite just a bit too much to bear comfortably, due to the heat of the Sun. It is much higher already, it could be close to noon. So much to do, so little time. An angry mynah screeches as it dives on to M, unprovoked. M just moves quickly only just a little aside and is unruffled as the bird misses. The bird seems angrier, M couldn’t care less, serves you right you ugly brute, go away, and the Mynah does. Maybe M was too close to the Mynah’s nest. Doesn’t matter, there is so much to do, no time to waste. M restarts the hunt. The rising Sun has now changed direction considerably and is not rising any more, but has come down quite a bit.

M sets off in the direction of the still floating Flizuli as M vaguely named this ethereal butterfly. It would be a precious prize, wouldn’t it? The darned Flizuli hurried on, as M followed breathlessly. Again teasingly the ring-a-rings-roses follows. After a while the butterfly is bored and draws away to a higher branch. M stops, for lunch or something of that sort. Refreshed takes time to look at the new varieties of plants and colour around this Eden of a wood. Luckily no nasty creatures close by, but just some small succulent fruit. M takes a helping and then redoubles the effort to get that elusive creature. Spying it as it moves away to lower shrubs, M follows. This time Flizuli flutters away steadily and slowly towards the west. Now M is single-minded (difficult for some people, as they don’t have one, but I digress) in pursuit, must try harder! The Sun is lower now, but the colour of the sky is changing fast as it darkens with clouds. M doesn’t take much notice and is after Flizuli. As distance is covered, tall trees are fewer and many more shrubs crop up…. the grey sky takes up much more of the field of vision, so it is still bright. Hang on! the world seems to be ending abruptly in front. Not much to see but the sky ahead. Yet, M doesn’t pay much attention. The sky above is full of dark clouds, yet it is bright, since the sun is now low, and near the horizon there are no clouds. There is a rumbling sound of thunder and some thing else. M’s instincts are slowly awakening, but unable to alert. This is a completely new experience for M, as has been much of the day so far in a manner of speaking. M is hungry again, but fights it off for now.

The butterfly seems to be going underground in a trice. M generates a burst of speed to catch up with the diving butterfly. Flizuli has happily just joined her family: brothers, sisters and cousins in blue around a lower shrubbery garnished with bright flowers. As M sights Flizuli just below the heavens open up. This wonder filled moment of distraction has caused M to overshoot. Close to the top edge of the thundering waterfall large droplets of rain and waterfall beat down upon M at the same time. The sun is low but bright as it is setting in the distance. The sunlight catches the spray and the heady colour cocktail of the rainbow, butterflies, flowers is the last sight M experiences while perishing in the depths below.

After all many a Mayfly lives just for a single day; A day in its life can very well be all of its life. Who is to say that M’s life wasn’t full of joy, purpose, wonder and thrill.

The other other Friday bloggers will have a more personal but surely more interesting a view to offer: Sanjana, PadmumRaju, Maria, Shackman , Ramana and Conrad. Could be a voyeur’s place.