soliloquies in the outdoors
Magpies, like most corvidae, bask in an intellectual prowess not readily endowed upon fauna in general… moving around with a professional grump, undeterred by mirrors, audacious enough to ruminate on reflections rather… putting two and two together if need be, humouring the human for easy morsels… yet all that lives must have some folly, and …
Sanchi, a serene UNESCO World Heritage Site situated away from urban surrounds, houses centuries-old relics and remarkable stone carvings. Despite modern visitors and changing times, it remains a symbol of endurance and quiet resilience.
There’s stasis on the face of it as one looks at the panorama from a mountaintop on a clear morning… all the snow-covered peaks and glaciers spewing out of their cold slopes brooding deep till the sun warms them up into frothing rivers down below… somewhere between the transition of ice into water, the elements …
Perhaps no one enjoys basking in the sun more than butterflies … there’s that moment, it seems, when the momentariness of their adult life, or the fear of myriad predators queuing up for a morsel, is all forgotten as they spread the wings out over a perch, wallowing in an infinite warmth of the sun …
Ghats are one of those landscapes that overwhelm the senses, the lush tropical mountains steeped in flora and fauna, many of whom have these regions as their only domicile, defying the quintessential interconnectedness of a world forever in flux, espousing exclusivity instead… whether thrashing through the forests, treading the criss-cross trails amidst tea gardens or …
Nelong valley, like many of its militarized brethren, lies glum… twixt blasts of dynamite scraping roads out of brittle rocks and some rounds fired hither and thither, there’s an eerie silence, uncharacteristic of mountains that can conjure music out of almost everything, animate or inanimate… but these are the ways modern societies define assertiveness and …
Clouds have this dichotomy of sorts, they can choose to dump their wares upon a hapless wayfarer and be at the receiving end of his million curses, or they can just prefer to hang out harmlessly, keeping him guessing… on higher climes, ‘tis more often than not a race against the clouds than time in …
Flycatchers often seem bound by invisible tethers… zeroing in on a branch and launching rapid sallies from there again and again to pluck food out of the air, all in a theatrical lasting a few minutes at the most… always fidgety, their restive disposition making the onlooker feel the same after a while… they are …
Twilight – one part of it is hope, the other is resignation… a submission to the forces around and beyond… impatience giving way to forbearance as the last of the light tucks itself into a lunar solace… a time of the day when thoughts become atmospheric, sacrificing their precision, anesthetized by a sense of nostalgia… …
Grey bushchat – like most ‘chats’, ‘tis gregarious and grumpy, not intimidated by human presence, but not too happy about it either… it doesn’t really set the world, or the woods, on fire with its dull grey and white plumage… ‘tis the songs rather, and the nifty movements that set one up into following its trail… …