Goǩotta

Not too long ago I had mentioned, in my rambly writings, the mesmerizing nature of our feathered companions. I had written about Jonathan, Cheel, Saffron and Abigail – birds of different feathers that tended to flock together in my head and heart. I had compared birds in Karachi with those in Houston. Given enough time and similar interactions, I am quite confident that I will be able to befriend birds no matter where I go. Perhaps because I have become so keenly aware of my inclination to birds in my travels, either near or far, they have taken on a special meaning for me.

But why am I so attracted to the way of the birds? I have spent much time watching, thinking about, and photographing them. Occasionally I have been caught writing odes to them. But regardless of all that, I just could not fathom the source of this affiliation that might have bordered on obsession. Furthermore, whenever my child asked ‘why do you love birds so?’ I found it frustrating being unable to generate a convincing answer.

I suppose I could have lived out my life without an adequate answer, and that would have been okay too – had it not been for a dear friend who perhaps understanding my predicament much better than me, sent me a single word that explained to me my love affair with the birds. How can one word alone explain such an emotionally laden relationship with one’s feathered fellow travelers, you might ask? Well, one needs to rely on a language other than English, Swedish perhaps, as in this case.

And without further ado, the word is (drum roll)…..

… Goǩotta (pronounced ‘Yo-Koh-Tah’) – that literally means ‘dawn picnic to hear the first birdsong’. It refers to the act of rising in the early morning to watch the birds or to go outside to appreciate nature.

I recall the many solo pre-dawn car rides listening to fabulously soulful music on my way to the Brazos Bend State Park in Houston. That would be followed at dawn by sightings of many exotic birds and hearing their daybreak songs. All while I was actively running the perimeter of the lakes in that delightful park. The alligators wandering quite freely in the park, and along my jogging track, would momentarily put a dent in my chutzpah at that early hour without a single human being in site, but luckily I never became alligator fodder.         

The definition of the word Goǩotta sums it up so well for me.  I think one needs to be a ‘Yo-Koh-Tah’ to really appreciate the ethos of Goǩotta, and then only will you stop questioning your bird fetishes.

If anyone were to ask me to generate a list of happy words then I would place Goǩotta right at the top.

Go ‘Yo-Koh-Tah’!  

[from Conference of the Birds]

Acknowledgment: This article was first published by the Houston Inner Looper Newspaper (Jan. 2014). Photos kindly provided by Dr. Ansul Noor.