Archive for January, 2018

Walk home, 310118

January 31, 2018

My walk home this morning.

Newspapers flying through the air to land in sometimes wet front driveways. Vegetable vendors offloading from autorickshaws. Sunlight slanting in motes of dust, through the branches of trees. The still-lingering nip in the air that makes me–almost– forget that I am still limping, 9 weeks after the knee surgery.

Steaming, tiny cups of chai and kaapi at various corners. Rangolis that are much smaller than they were last month. A little boy reluctant to get off his mother’s two-wheeler, at his school. Beans more tender than a child’s finger, and a cauliflower with a caterpillar smiling up at me…that makes me decide to buy them (no pesticides!) Smiling at several people whom I don’t know but see regularly.

I arrive home, feeling peaceful and happy. Surely, this is a perfect life.

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Darshini filter kaapi, 180118

January 18, 2018

At any
Darshini restaurant in Bangalore

the south Indian “filter kaapi” (coffee that has been percolated through a filter, and always made with milk) is first poured into the glasses, where the colour gleams invitingly in the sunlight.

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Then, boiling, frothing milk (with or without sugar , as per the customer’s requirement) is added. One is one, the other one waits….

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This was taken at Vidyarthi Grand, on Kanakapura Road, one of my favourite post-birding-outing favourites. (We’d been to the Valley School area.)

Location, location, location!

January 11, 2018

Where, oh, where can I say that I saw
In the capital city of Karnataka….
Those rare ornithological specimens that I click.
Usually not in the city, but far!

I worry, you see, that others might spy
And click …and disturb…those beautiful birts.
But I don’t want to keep the location to myself.
So of course,I say, “Bangalore Outskirts.”

Whether it’s the hills, the forests or the valley
Or any of the few remaining lakes…the wirts
That are written under those superb photographs, are always
Those teasing ones: “Bangalore Outskirts”.

Bangalore-for-birders is a shy maiden: Not for her
Those see-through tees or off-the-shoulder shirts.
You may get only a peep at some shy part of a birt
Under those far-reaching “Bangalore Outskirts”.

So I feel happy I’m sharing the info with the world
Of fellow Bangalore-birders till it hurts:
But still I know I will never give away
The actual location of those “Bangalore Outskirts”.

I rest easy in mind; I am the only ethical birder.
All the rest of them are irresponsible disaster-alerts.
Let them try to find the bird I found! I defy them
By telling them I found it in the “Bangalore Outskirts”.

On the passing of Mythri, 100118

January 10, 2018

Every moment that I live,breathe, look, sigh…
May be someone’s last moment on earth.
So tough to understand this, but it is true.
More and more often, when I hear of young people dying
I wonder why there is no logic in life or death.
Why should I, having lived a full life, and with no regrets,
Not be taken, and a young life,
Full of talent, hard work and promise,
Not be spared to the world?
Why should old sere trees, their uses long gone,
Creak on, moaning of the past to the world,
While young saplings,which we hope will grow
And mature into giants,
Be cut down in a lightning swathe of random fate?
I do not understand life…or death.