Sahyadrica

Dear A, Ten years later you won't have the assets – time or otherwise – to be able to write for yourself, or to think, for that matter. Let that not dishearten you. For now, you must start. Let that crazy little idea that forms in your head manifest itself in the real world. Ideas are volatile, non-existent until you express them. Start somewhere. Be it that half-a-day trip to a nearby park you went on the previous weekend, or the adventure of rescuing a – of all the things you will find in a city – monitor lizard, or those small expeditions you went on with your family. You still haven’t started on the latter, by the way. Observe, don’t merely watch. Experience, don’t just feel. Read, don’t just see. These three things will form the crux of your passion as you grow. Treat them as your fundamentals, not rules. Rules will restrict you. Deprive you even. Fundamentals will give you wings but keep you grounded. They will help you hypothesize. To be creative. They will make...

A hint of light first dapples my window Then slowly a golden streak creeps in From a gap in the door Spilling light on the floor I remain unperturbed for as long as I can Before a persistent Coppersmith Barbet From a giant Fig in the distance Begins to recite his concordance A warm breeze careens across the yard Not the most pleasant of its kind, but more earthy Making Saja and Lendia wean Draping Kosum and Sal in crimson and green Then suddenly a symphony picks pace A Brown-headed Barbet contests with a Coppersmith The latter ringing a copper bell The former beating a talking drum As if on cue the Common Hawk Cuckoo begins his concert For whom only three syllables make do A wayward country singer at a fair Singing pa-pi-ha in the summer air And as the shadows shrink in the hard of the heat A Crested Serpent Eagle whistles at another in the sky Standing in the blazing grassland I happen to overhear This most melodious of eagles, saying hey-come-here There...