Sahyadrica

There is a shrub – an omnipresent one – on the gentle as well as steep slopes of the Western Ghats called Karvy (or Karvi), Strobilanthes callosus . It grows in dense thickets with its stems shooting straight up from the ground into a loosely held bunch. In summer they appear as a maze of bone-dry sticks which are collected by local communities to build walls – the sticks, being straight, are tied next to one another upon which a layer of mud and dung is plastered (these structures are very cool and very sustainable in their make). By late winter the leaves dry out, first developing warts, then turning yellow and orange, and then as they desiccate with rising temperatures they turn brown and crumble away. A carpet of Karvy, Strobilanthes callosus , the one with dark green leaves predominates on one of the slopes in Sahyadris, the northern Western Ghats. September 2011. It is between these two seasons that they’re at their best – their leaves are dark and large, crenate, and sha...

I need no call of clamant bell that rings iron-tongued in the towers of earthly kings. -          Mettanyë by J. R. R. Tolkien, The Book of Lost Tales Part I Deep in the woodlands of Konkan, there are areas reigned by a particular creature: the forest floor, the leaves and the tree trunk, are booming with a frenzy of this small, nimble-footed, bright yellow-coloured insect carrying a lethal spray-gun of formic acid. It is called Anoplolepis gracilipes , and is more commonly referred as the Yellow Crazy Ant. This story is about these ants, on what they mean to be in India’s forests (more specifically northern Western Ghats), and forms a prelude to a larger story which has not been enacted in India yet, but has been and has lead to drastic changes in landscapes in several parts of the world. On a clear winter morning, a Yellow Crazy Ant ( Anoplolepis gracilipes ) and aphids Nagla Block, Sanjay Gandhi National Park, 2012 Taxonomically,...

It will be wrong if I say I have not spent time (a lot of it) looking at the nimbostratus clouds passing silently from the south-west, waiting for the horns to blow that mark the arrival of monsoon. This we must agree, that monsoon is the epitome of change. It is the most astonishing of all changes. The change is in the air, in the earth, and is ultimately wrought in the mind. And all of this may happen just as you sit and stare out of the window! Monsoon this year did not arrive at its stipulated time. It thundered sparsely. There was no dance of the lights. May I say that Lord Varuna is not happy with what mankind has done to Mother Earth? That he is not in our favour anymore, and would abandon us when he knows we are completely, hopelessly dependent on him? We are all out praying, some loudly, some in their minds, some going to the length of marrying Hoplobatrachus tigerinus , the Indian Bullfrog, in hopes of impressing the Rain God. Today, the interval between two continuo...