Showing posts with label Nature. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Nature. Show all posts

Saturday, 21 March 2015

Meeting the Lion


It was never part of our Pune trip’s itinerary, but one fine rainy morning, we were off to one of the most famous forts of Maharashtra. I was too young then. But I remember every little thing that I liked about that journey. The curving roads; the pleasant weather; the cool breeze hitting my face; the green hills and the greener valleys; the chatter of my family, relatives, and cousins; and the beautiful, divine drizzle. I was transported into ‘Anotherland’!

It was so foggy that I could hardly see the humungous walls of the fort that were just three feet away from me. You see it now and now you don’t. Thrilling, for a kid of my age. Steep steps, sturdy walls, mysterious hideaways, secret paths, randomly wriggling snakes—it was unreal, and yet, it was all there.

Reaching the topmost point of the fort, I realised that nature is such a soothing element. For the first time in my life, drops of rain fell on me while I saw the clouds above, and the clouds below—and then, I touched a passing cloud. Unforgettable!

Standing there, the history of the fort unfolded in my mind. Shivaji. Tanaji Malusare. The famous ghorpad or monitor lizard, Yeshwant. The difficult climb, the great battle, the historic sacrifice. Stories have immense power, and as I soaked in that moment, I felt it all—the power of history, the power of heritage and legacy, the power of nature. The power of a fort called Sinhagad*!

*The fort, named Kondana earlier, was recaptured by Shivajis forces under the leadership of Tanaji Malusare. On hearing that the battle had claimed Malusares life, Shivaji had said, The fort is won, but the lion is gone. In the honour of the brave warrior, Shivaji then renamed the fort as Sinhagad—when translated from Marathi to English, Sinhagad means Lion's Fort’.

Wednesday, 7 September 2011

Bird’s Eye View



A lone bird sits on an electric wire…
To a bird watcher, she is a magpie robin…
To a layperson, she is a black silhouette against the orange-blue sky…
She sits still… So still that she could be in a painting…
She continues dreaming… The dreamer that she is!

She jerks herself out of her reverie and looks the other way… She could well be a thinker, for she knows that a change of direction usually helps…
She preens herself… Each and every plume… Patiently. Therapeutically.
Like a vain princess, now she looks up with the hope that the chaotic, lesser birds on a nearby tree will notice her…
Far from success, she contemplates some more… The strategist in her comes to the fore.

She tweets… She chirps... She sings… Her slender neck and tail feathers gently sway to and fro in harmony… Pity, the performer finds no audience…
She flaps her wings rhythmically… Then abruptly, making sharp, raucous calls, she starts fluttering them frantically… An attention-seeking drama queen!
Impatience and desperation grow… She chooses to be left alone… But she is not really the loner others think her to be.
Riled, she sits still again… Impersonating a stoic sculpture.

A moment of quiet thought and she instinctively knows she has got what she wanted… Even if not from the ones she tried to appeal to…
Someone has indeed been watching her all along…
She cheeps a gracious thanks, much like a ballerina’s dainty curtsey…
But is that enough? That is not all she wanted... Is it ever enough?...

With newfound confidence, she looks towards the so-called lesser birds on the nearby tree…
Once again, she calls out to them to gain their fellowship…
She is a wannabe conformist… An aspiring prude on a never-ending path of desire…
She is a seeker…
After all, she is just a bird...
A lone bird who sits on an electric wire…