Going Into Denial

I made it a habit of talking to plants first thing in the morning. The were lush green, flowering and gave joy to the heart.

Is it the summer? Is it the end of their lifetimes? Is it some negligence on my part?

My rose that bloomed non stop for three months is now leafless and its stem is becoming brown.

My tulsi dried, the next one never took off and the third is on probation.

One strain of money-plant is drying up.

My crotons have dried up. One set of plants I got from my brother died in a day, but the seeds are buried there, and I dread to do anything in a hurry lest I don't give it the chance that it deserves.

Yes, there are some healthy, flourishing plants too in the balcony. But somehow, I hesitate to go to them, to talk to them, feeling overwhelmed and guilty. Do I give them hope of fresh life as the season changes, or do I have to root them out and look for fresh plants?

Is this decision easy? It brings with it the weight of responsibility of caring for another life, of taking a decision on whether it is truly dead or if life is dormant, needing just the right circumstances to spring back to life. It seems easier to step back and wait, not go one way or the other.

Encounter with Elephants

Good from far, far from good

Kabini, 2004 September. A group of cousins with children on a jungle safari. Seeing some deer and boars near the mouth of a river covered with coconut trees, we paused to admire the scenery when a herd of elephants crossed very close to a jeep ahead of us. One of the elephants rushed forward and kicked fallen coconut tree trunk as if trying to score a goal. The boars dispersed in a hurry, getting the signal.

Just as we realised there was a calf in the herd which seemed very restless, the elephant turned
towards the jeep ahead of us, its ears flaring and the trunk straight stiff, trumpeting a warning at us.

The jeep driver slowly reversed and we escaped before the herd turned on us belligerently.

We drove a distance, again scanning the forest for other wild animals when this time we saw a lone male elephant. From fire into frying pan, we realised and escaped before the elephant noticed us or decided to explore the intrusion.

Our cottages faced the Kabini river and on returning from the safari, now a bit more reassured that we were safer, we headed to the river and one of the adults swam with his son also taking a dip.

When we returned a while later, we noticed a board at foot level. "You can swim if you want to, and you may find company" - and images of crocodiles were drawn next to it.

Well, we are living still to tell the tale.

But if we enter their territory, we had better be prepared to play by their rules.

The Single Mom

Four to handle, and she was all alone.
Several preying eyes ready to make away with the little ones, though she was the queen of her kingdom.
And the four were handful too, venturing out before their time.
The expression of the tigress as she picked up a vagrant cub just a few days old  and watched another rolling off the rocks to the floor was classic. I was watching a documentary on how tigers live and this moment remains etched in my mind. Some males in the animal world help their mates in rearing their children. But the tigress, the leopardess, the bear - they seem to do it alone. Even a leopard will kill a tiger cub, apparently. So when she goes hunting, the tigress has to make sure they are safely hidden from evil eyes as well as get enough for the demanding mouths.
I was wondering, how easy it would be for her to let out a small growl, enough to scare the cubs and tell them their limits. Just one snap of the jaws and the tiger cub would be reduced to nothing. And yet, she patiently went up and down, picking them up gently and placing them up somewhere safe.
As a parent who draws lines very quickly around her children, that patience was remarkable to watch. Let alone intimidating her children, she didn't even stamp her paw in frustration! Not even when she went hunting after they were slightly older, and the little one mewled (for that's what that roar came out as) to show who was the boss, scaring the prey away.
Motherhood indeed seems worth celebrating when you encounter it in this form.

PS: Snake mothers incubate and then scurry away before the snake babies hatch since they eat their own little ones apparently.

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Vanishing Home

He is creepy, crawly and scary. But doesn't he deserve a home still?

The deer from the garden of Eden in my backyard have been transferred to another safe place. The birds will find another home if these trees are cut off. Squirrels and mongoose - no one will mind if they frolic around in the gardens of residences. But what will this fellow do? Burrow deep till he thinks it is safe to come out, or be detected earlier and killed by the labourers? Will it be ever safe for him? Whenever he is sighted - whether in the metro office or in my complex - he is bound to be hunted and killed. A certain death awaits him.

But today, he majestically slid across the tree, baring his fangs at the birds objecting to his presence. An unpopular guy... To be cared for still from the preying man.

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Following the Light

I was about to open the window after switching off the AC, when I noticed a bee hovering just outside. He was banging against the glass, desperately trying to get in. The light inside was immensely superior attraction over the darkness that covered the land behind him. His friends were probably asleep, or hovering over the queen bee, or doing whatever they normally do at that hour. But this one was the adventurous one, the ambitious one, or maybe, the terribly scared one. He wanted light. He wanted warmth. Though he had grown amidst nature, he found the artificial light attractive.

I kept him out, not opening the door. I tried to tell him this was a world of falsities. With one flick of the switch, the light will vanish. He had no friends here, only unfriendly hands that would try to squash it. He would be safe and warm wherever he was, with his friends, doing what he did best - collecting honey.

My pleas fell in deaf ears. Instead, he had questions to ask: If this is a life of falsities, what are you doing here? Aren't you a creature of nature too? How did you adapt? I will adapt too! Why should I be squashed? Couldn't we coexist?

His questions silenced me. I quietly switched the light off, hoping the night outside would look brighter than the dark room within.

I went to bed, pondering, wondering - what is right for one, why do we assume it is not right for another? Why sometimes it IS not right for another? Or is it that it is convenient to assume it is not right for another?

Elves

When I see the trees
Lush, rich and green
Looking washed and clean
After rains heavy

I feel like becoming small
Climbing the trees tall
Running through them
Like squirrels hurrying around

And I think I will find
More than just birds fine
Chirping and fluttering
Singing happily

I will find little fellows
Carrying  arrows and bows
Shooting intruders entering
Their bowers without their knowing

I can see them guarding
Their homes and their darlings
Standing guard on the broad stem
Of the tree that is their hearth

Oh pesky little elves
I long to see thou and thine
In your greens that hide you
From prying eyes like mine

With long ears
Tall caps
Slim waist
Handsome face

Do you exist? I doubt not
In my heart of hearts
When I see the green
Outside my balcony.

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The Geese Fall Silent

We will get a new metro
Maybe in years two or three
Meanwhile they have taken
Away all the geese
Soon they will come down
To cut all the trees
But even before that
Oh where are all the deers?
Only the birds still come
And sing a few songs of cheer
Making me come out
Once in a while to peer
But will I ever get to see
Another new bird, dear?
Sigh, we should be happy
About the new metro that will be here.

Had posted before: The Silence of the Geese

The Regal Look - Wasted

Peeping out to see how many saw his humiliation

Five white tigers in an enclosure. Standing at a safe distance, we were still awed by the majesty and the beauty of the regal animals. One walked down the slope to the ditch dug around the enclosure, next to the ditch, separating the humans from the carnovores.

We stood admiring each when we heard the gates of the cage being opened and shut from the rear of the enclosure. Food time, we realised.

A man came out to the outer wall on the rear and called out harshly, "Po (go)!" All the tigers looked. One of them instantly sat up. Another glared at him regally. He threw a stick at it to get it moving. He shouted again and again to get them to pick up their food. Slowly one went in, another followed. The stubborn ones were egged by the man to get moving.

Even the most stubborn one finally got up, went in, had its fill and came out. It was a sad sight.

But, I couldn't help wondering - is this what is happening in Tihar jail right now? The one with the power is the one outside, making those inside dance to his (her) tunes?

The Kind Lord; Hobson's Choice; Animal Farm

The Metro

Chennai is on par with other metros today, we say proudly. We have malls, we have cars, we have flyovers and we have traffic jams.

A 10 minute distance took me around 40 minutes yesterday on my two wheeler at 11 in the morning on the arterial road - The Mount Road.

Was I mad to be out on the bike - not only did I ask myself this, but many of my friends. Pressed between cars of all sizes, not an inch of the road visible, there was heat radiating from all sides. Not one apology of a tree to provide shade against the merciless sun that glared at all the foolish citizens of Chennai that were out at that hour.

But I was on a bike, and other travellers on car. I could not help thinking of so many old people - inlcuding my father - who depend on the shank's mare regardless of the time of the day. The sun is no more merciful to them than us, the trees as absent. And they as used to the comforts as us... And yet I have seen them do it - two old men from my building can be seen out in the sun on bank work and other sundry things.

I wonder if development has to mean cutting down of trees. If a road is broadened, can't a provision be made for some shade somewhere? Is the lust for the metal so much that anything green is an anathema?

For those of you who read my blog The Silence of the Geese - there is some good news. Of the 172, only 28 are to be cut - a HC order was passed to this effect. I am hoping that this will be followed and not forgotten.

In the early days, kings had a rule - if they cut 1 tree, they had to plant 5 or something in its place. This ancient law should be made mandatory today.

Revenge

As we sit wondering about the explosion in the nuclear reactor, I cannot help wondering if this isn't nature's way of getting back. There is a Tamil word that fits our attitude to nature appropriately - sorandarathu. Literally dig our nails into the last available resource and grab every iota of it in our greedy hands.

But having got used to our comforts, where is it that we can cut down? Will we stop killing trees, reclaiming land, mining, poaching, drilling, populating and therefore restarting the entire cycle? In retrospect, is industrialisation a boon or a bane?