Friday 30 March 2012

When the Road is Funny

It pays to look around when travelling, because the most commonplace routes often conceal a lot that can fascinate, amuse and entertain.

Particularly in India, where 'amusement' can be generated by our healthy (?) disdain for those who do not speak and write our languages the way we do.

So, there are lots of chuckles to be had because of things written on shop boards, on the rear ends of vehicles, inside buses, on walls, buildings and the like.



If you miss these, there will invariably be people on your road who will do things inexplicable, which will leave you either in splits or shocked, or (more likely) have you looking for a quiet place, some distance away from the source, where you can hold your tummy and chuckle to your heart's content.

There are also other little surprises in store. For example, on a trip to Rishikesh, my friends and I were greatly amused by the miniature cows there. Adapted, no doubt, to their environment, they were very obliging when I had to take a picture.


I remember telling you about possessing an unfortunate sense of humour. This picture is one I've always found amusing in a very cute way, because of the cow at complete peace with itself, most likely unaware that there are bigger cousins in the plains. Why should it worry, anyway?

Then there are times when I've met people with worse comic timing than mine. In 2009, on a visit to Jodhpur for a college photography assignment, we visited a Bishnoi village. Fantastic place, beyond doubt, with houses set far apart, surrounded by fields, and blackbucks roaming freely!


Before you ask, it's the same people who raised hell when Salman Khan shot the beautiful antelopes. The Bishnois love all creatures great and small, and do not take well any attempts to harm them.

During an auto ride to the village, the driver looks at our equipment and asks us our names.

"Danish, Ali and Salman," we replied.

"Achcha! Toh aap bhi Salman ho, aur aap bhi shooting karne aaye ho?"
(So, your name is Salman as well, and you've come to 'shoot'?)



Sweet Lord, have mercy on my soul.

It is at times like this when the human soul feels desolate, forsaken, a lone chirpy bird in a world devoid of smiles.


Apologies for the digression, though. Got carried away.

When you travel with photography on your mind, the best images invariably turn up unawares. On the train to Jodhpur from Delhi, there was a rather long unscheduled stop. So i thought I'd take a few pictures.

Not very good, most of them, but then I saw a kid's legs dangling out of a window of the stationary coach. The photograph I got is one of my favourites.


Like I said earlier, though, shop signs and walls are the best for on-the-go entertainment. I regret that I have no pictures yet of the best ones I've seen. For now, I can just upload the lame ones with little grammatical errors and spelling mistakes.


And of course, stuff that makes you wonder.


Whatever a traditional 'Baba' massage may be.

The best, of course, are the ones I will tell you now.

'Latak mat, patakh doongi' on the door of a bus in Lucknow.

'Jatt' in Urdu on the rear number plate of a scooter in Delhi.

'Khadi kya hai soch mein, chadh ja Khurram Bhai ki coach mein' on the rear of a bus near Brijghat in western U.P.

'Fly Army Aviation, Combat Proven, Even Birds Are Jealous' on the rear end of an SUV in Delhi. Never figured out what that meant.

My favourite, though, was something I saw from the window of a bus, about five years ago in Ghaziabad.

There was a wall lined with mirrors, man-high, with the legend: 'Aap jo kar rahe hain, woh duniya dekh sakti hai.'

An effective deterrent, if ever there was one.

Next time, I'll make sure I have pictures.


Tuesday 13 March 2012

Woodcraft


Left foot, right foot, left foot, right foot...

That's the science of walking to most of us. But stealth is a highly prized skill in the walker, and when you have a hobby like bird-watching, it is of paramount importance, a significant skill in an art called woodcraft, a must for all of us who desire escape from our thickets of concrete.

My second post on the blog would have been based on my experience of walking around Old Delhi, but for an amazing walk a few days ago that changed my mind.

I accompanied my friend Megha to the Asola Wildlife Sanctuary on March 09, on a day that boasted of perfect weather. Not too hot, bright blue sky, a little breeze, and terrible light for photography.

We walked into the Conservation Education Centre where we met Mr Sajeev TK of the Bombay Natural History Society, who decided to show us around the place. So, armed with cameras and binoculars, the three of us set off into the park.

Asola is an area of open scrub forest, gnarled and knobbly vegetation dotting its landscape. Home to a fairly diverse assortment of flora and fauna, it is wonderful to walk through.


In case you have a guide, of course. Otherwise you are likely to get lost.

There are, as I have learnt, two ways of walking through a natural environment. Lay persons like me, walking 'silently', will make a fair deal of noise by animal standards, startling many really amazing creatures away, before even getting to see them. Also, we will manage to see, hear and identify much fewer creatures than there are present.

With someone who knows his woodcraft, though, you are instructed to walk in actual silence, which is when you realise what a racket the average urban walker actually makes, only it is masked by the engines, the horns, the screams and shouts that stay with us all the time.

You stop to admire trees, plants and flowers, realising that the beauty of forests must be savoured nice and slow. Stand still, listen to the sounds of nature (at Asola, there is also the faint hum of vehicles, the distant echo of loudspeakers. And horns. What would noise be without horns?).

To get to the point, though, the above described moment of stillness is the beginning of one's instruction in woodcraft, the point where the forest begins to yield its secrets, many a time giving to you the privilege of a long, satisfying observation.

Masters of woodcraft; of whom I have met a few; will walk the same route with you, but be aware of many more things than the lay person can see, hear or sense.

Which is basically how our walk with Mr Sajeev turned out. Woodcraft we saw, as we'd walk slowly along a path our guide knew like the back of his hand, waiting at specific locations, becoming familiar with the keekar trees, as well as the occasional neem, tesu and khejri.

Butterflies and birds became visible in their own time. Redstarts, White-eyes, Petronias added to the more familiar bulbuls, robins, babblers, warblers darting in and out of the foliage.

There was a small mongoose family that held our attention for quite a while. Moving in and out of sight on a little sandbank, nervous of our presence (I realised I walk very noisily), they were around for enough time for us to to take a few pictures.


Even better, though, was the sight of Purple Sunbirds feeding on flowers of the Tesu tree, the male's brilliant coloration arresting our attention.


Asola is set amid breathtaking surroundings, the Adilabad-Tughlaqabad ruins and the Lotus Temple visible from parts of the park premises.


It's a wonderful place to visit, early in the morning when the heat hasn't set in. Moderately strenuous walking, and the thorns know their business, so good shoes and tough denims are in order.

As is a bottle of water, a pair of binoculars, a notepad and pen, and a camera.