On a fine morning blessed with clear blue skies, about three weeks back, a pandemonium of Rose-ringed Parakeets (Psittacula krameri) descended upon our neighbourhood in all their emerald glory. Swinging on the high-strung cables, our broadband lifeline, the five females and two males started putting in a regular appearance – thrice a day – since … Continue reading I See You!
This one takes off from my narrative of June 4th, “Tempest in a Teapot?” (https://asliveroflife.wordpress.com/2019/06/04/tempest-in-a-teapot/), in which I recounted how a team of house sparrows had fortuitously aided the creation of a mini-forest of foxtail millet plants within the confines of my tulsi planter. In due course these plants flowered and fruited, yielding millet seeds … Continue reading The Farmer Sparrows!
In a verdant forest rich and thick, choicest berries and nectar to pick, Jocosus spied in olive and yellow, dazed and soaked who’s this fellow? You look like me except the hues, but suffering quite a case of blues, whence you from, whither bound, don’t mind but never seen around. I am Gularis from the … Continue reading Human(un)kind
Atop a verdant hillock, beneath the rising sun, looking down on tree tops, my vigil had begun. Ticking off the bird calls, all expected by far, suddenly a screeching call, loud and bizarre. On the southern slopes, I set my sight in search, and there it was riotously, calling from its perch. Quickly from the … Continue reading Mocked by a Mocking Bird!
Gazing at the tall Indian beech, I thought I saw a hint of peach, amidst the lush leaves of green, was that a touch of tangerine? Into the thickets it had gone, chasing a shade of persimmon, if it was to be a whistling parrot, why did I see a hue of carrot? Was it … Continue reading Nothing Rhymes with Orange!
A profusion of clumsy rustling on a carpet of dry leaves under the scrubby vegetation somewhere to my left told me that I was in luck. And as the collective patter of feet came closer, my eyes naturally began to scan the tops of the scrawny trees which, with their few green boughs, would be … Continue reading The Sentinel
This one isn’t about tea or its receptacle. Nor remotely about W. Shakespeare. (Neither is it an attempt to plagiarise any of his revered dialogues.) It is titled thus since I fear there being a fair chance that at the end of my exposition you may feel that it is much ado about nothing; but … Continue reading Tempest in a Teapot?