The Sunsetters

A pair of lionesses maraud on a vehicle track late one evening in search of prey.

Arrowhead

Meet a guided missile with premium-apparel branding.

How does it feel to see a wild tiger?

So how does it feel to see a wild tiger? I could tell you that waiting for a tiger to emerge feels like watching raindrops trickle off a roofline while awaiting your beloved – a wistful longing fanned by sweet anticipation. But that wouldn’t let you know what it’s like to melt in your own…

Watcher on the Wall

  Between the banks of night and day, she stands gazing at the undual, still in the flow. Seasons come and phases lapse, but her vigil flies aloft. It reaches beyond man, beast and plant, and touches the source of all.But she’s not a hoarder of beliefs, collector of memories or weaver of dreams. She’s…

Revelations in the Dark

I’m the water for which you thirst, the fire in which you burn, and the air that fans it. I’m the quiver of your lips, the throb in your belly, the blood in your cheeks and the stutter on your tongue.I’m your frown of frustration and squeal of delight.I’m the spring in your step, the…

The Heart’s Eye

Two gleaming gems. Like polished marbles from the Welkin’s riverbeds. By day they hide, at noon they rest, and by night they glow in the lonesome bight. Yet, by morning they’re gone, set with the moon, down horizons unknown. Sparks from tinder, brilliant but short, fanned by the wind. How bright they glow! How bright!…

A Feeling Called Tiger

I’ve felt it far more often than I’ve seen it. In the rustle of the leaves it’s resident, and the thunder over the distant hills brings its euphony. The inchoate buds issue its fragrance, and the sway of the windswept grass talks of its silent jaunt. The frenetic calls of alarm evoke its presence, and…

An Ode to a Girl

To her who can – evoke a smile for no reason; hand a ‘happy high’ sans spirits; yet with her single glimpse raise… sky-high a dead man’s spirits; To her who can – with her beauty set even a stoic heart aflutter, and make the most articulate tongue stutter; bring spring to a barren soul,…

Wise as a Tiger

My eleventh visit to Bandhavgarh began on an ominous note.   At the tail end of the first safari, we arrived at Gopalpur Meadow to find an extremely genial English gentleman, whom I was to later identify as John Aitchison, a wildlife cameraman who’d won an Emmy for my then favourite documentary, Frozen Planet.  He…

The Golden Lining

The Golden Lining The head hangs down, shoulders droop. The tail’s closer to the thighs than to the grass flowers that sway in the changed wind. It once carried your fragrance afar but now brings to you the reek of peril. You’re on the back foot staring at doom through a pall of gloom. The…