Wings and stings : the other side of the garden

The monsoon is still in full force in Mumbai; soaking the city, whipping the trees, thrumming a tattoo on car-tops, driving everyone indoors.
But the minute there is a lull, my garden is a-buzz. The passion-flowers are in full bloom and there are hundreds, possibly thousands, of very busy bees hard at work. I don't blame them. The fragrance of the passion-flowers is so sweet and seductive!
I have never tried to locate the hives of these bees to harvest their honey. That belongs to them; they work so hard for it.

All over the world, reports are pouring in of tragic colony collapses. (Why is it so important to us? Important enough for Einstein to state "If the bee disappeared off the face of the earth, man would have only four years left to live"! He was referring to the fact that one-third of our crops depend on honey bees for pollination Take them out of the picture and that's famine you're staring at!
Take a look at this trailer of 'More than honey'. Very interesting! )

Here, in my garden, though, the bees seem to be thriving. And I love watching them going about their work.

I had never really noticed how a bee slurps up nectar! Did you see its tongue? In some of the other pictures I've clicked, the tongue is stuck out long before the bee has landed on the flower ... greedy! (Or just super-efficient?)
And the passionflower is so ingenious. I had never really noticed before how its oval anthers are curved just-so to perfectly fit the curve of a bee. All the better to dust you with pollen, my dear!
And our greedy bee is liberally smothered with this golden dust, little knowing (or caring, I'm sure) that she's a pampered, very well-compensated courier.

hmmm .... I wonder how passionflower-flavoured honey would taste?

If the passionflower is perfectly designed for visiting bees to sit and sip awhile, other blooms like this Safed musli ( Chlorophytum breviscapum ) are not so accommodating. But if the medicinal qualities of this very potent plant are going to be infused in the honey ... maybe I should be expecting an explosive growth in the bee population soon!

But, jokes aside, the bees have to be some of the most beneficial and valued creatures in the garden. Even if we gardeners do grouse about unexpected stings once in a while.
Painful, but such a small price to pay for help in the garden!

Wasps are some of my other favourite beneficials in the garden. Except, they won't hand out anything tasty and edible like honey. But they're skilled hunters and they do take care of pests!

Most wasps tuck in a snack for baby to munch on when it hatches. I've seen them scout around plants, locate a bug or caterpillar (sometimes much bigger than itself) and carry it off to its nest to be packed in.
Talk about an efficient tiffin service!

These Paper Wasps can be very aggressive if anyone goes near their nest. Just look at their body language ... they're ready to attack if I move my camera any closer. The things we do for a photo (foolish, foolish me!)!

Okay, I know this is really, really gruesome (believe me, it's a hundred times worse when you actually see it!) but I had to show you. I was walking home the other day when I saw this wasp land on a plant and scout around. It suddenly darted under a leaf and wrestled out this large, plump caterpillar (I think it's a Common Mormon ). Before I could react, it had subdued the poor caterpillar, stripped a long piece of skin and flesh off it, rolled it into a ball and flew off with it!

So shockingly gruesome! I guess if that had been the caterpillar of a Cabbage moth I wouldn't have mourned so much but I've always been partial to the Common Mormons and its cousins.

If this was a movie, it would've never got past the Censors. But then, that's Nature for you. It can be astoundingly beautiful and gentle, as well as mind-numbingly violent and matter-of-fact.
The wasps and other beneficial creatures are yet another weapon in Nature's arsenal to maintain the balance and keep pests under control (no, you don't really need man-made chemicals to do that!) .

And when I talk of wings, I just can't leave the king of my garden out of this post, can I ? Ever since the Pariah Kite (Black Kite) family moved into my garden, I don't need to really bother about keeping the rat population under control. Especially when there's a hungry chick in the nest demanding to be fed around the clock.

Except, every once in a while, I do find their housekeeping throws up some startling discoveries! I found this skeleton of a snake  near the coconut tree on which they nest.
Pity! I quite like snakes, especially when they're so good at getting rid of rats for me.

In my book, any creature that helps me in my garden and cuts down on my work there, is one to be treasured.
Especially if they're as colourful as this Blue Banded Bee.
Even if they come with stings attached.

More links :
         Bee happy

When the Monsoon casts a spell

And the rains have come to wash us clean. Refresh us, invigorate us, pour new life into every twig and leaf and parched being.
Oh, Monsoon ... how I do love you!

All the Gulmohurs are soaked and drenched. Fiery Summer meets Cool, Wet Monsoon. Shimmering drops cling to feathery leaves and scorching petals. Such an incredibly beautiful combination!

And every outdoor surface, whether stone or brick or earth or clay, suddenly remembers tales of delicate ferns of yore. And my sterile stone walls and every rock and tiny pebble around forgets the hot, scorching Summer days...

... and suddenly transforms into a shaded moist woodland! Gone is the parched, baked, blistering-hot earth . Now I live in a primeval jungle, complete with an explosion of waving maidenhair ferns and the creek! of hidden creatures.
Who is to say just what wonders lurk under those arching fern fronds?

This is one of the monsoon wonders in my garden which always leaves me gasping at the sheer unexpected beauty of it. 

Native to our land, it wasn't planted here. It just shows up every monsoon. Like a hostess gift brought by the Monsoons.

So alike, yet so different from the Aromatic Turmeric which I have planted here. It blooms in Summer, giving me a foretaste of the beauty awaiting me in the Monsoon when the Wild Curcumas come into their own.

And, the Carambola is still in bloom! I love its clusters of tiny bubblegum-pink flowers.

So do all the bees and other pollinators, I think.

Another native, the wild Ixora is blooming its head off.

And when the flowers fall off, it's still a pretty sight!

As are all the plants in my garden. De-petaled, or mud-coated or wind-torn they may be but they love the Monsoons. As do I (can you tell?) .

Some more Monsoon links for you  ( I know, the monsoon inspires me like no other season!)  : 

       Monsoons ... the agony and the ecstasy

       Monsoon vegetables in Mumbai

       Monsoon!

      Moss and snails and maidenhair ferns ... 

      It's a wet, green world

      Growing my own food

      Monsoon gifts

      Monsoon blooms

Summer was here!

Just a note to say, "Summer was here!"
A blistering, roasting, energy-sapping tropical kind of summer.
Reviled, perhaps. Moaned about, definitely. Yet so infinitely a part of us.

(Harvest time: fields along the  Punjab - Haryana highway)

Summer was here. All too soon the mad exuberance of Spring and the harvest season slows to a sultry crawl.
When it's Summer, the earth swings to a slower rhythm. The clock slows, sounds mute, movements gentle. It's the Summer way of life.

(Baradari palace, Patiala)

White is so beautiful now. Especially the icy-cool white shot through with tropical hues.

(on the Dehradun - Rishikesh highway)

And far away in cooler zones, there is an explosion of jacaranda clouds all along the highways, leaving travellers gaping and over-awed.
I'm sure that I was not the only one who rang up someone to gasp about the jacarandas in bloom.

(Patio of Ananda in the Himalayas) 

And just as I am ready to melt into the ground, the mountains call and I am rejuvenated.

(Patio of Ananda in the Himalayas)

A winter-garden within hours of the heat and dust of the scorching tropics? There's something so surreal about that. But I love it, and the view of misty mountains fading into the horizon spins a web of wander-lust in me.

(Monsoon clouds over the backwaters in Kochi)

Summer was here. And now it's on its way out. A flock of monsoon clouds are busy hustling it out. Shooing it away before settling in.I hope it's going to be a long cool, wet season ... goodbye Summer!

A sense of Spring

Breathe in the fragrance of a new season,
drink in the vibrant colours of a new year (you really don't think January marks a new year, do you? ),
gorge on the flavours of the new fruits weighing down the trees,
smile at the crescendo of joyous bird-calls overhead and faraway and round-about  ... Spring is here and makes sure you know it by a mad, merry, exuberant sensory overload!

When else would you find such a serendipitous juxtaposition of a Blue butterfly sunning itself next to a Rosy Periwinkle?

Or gangs of ants quilting a heliconia bloom? Or could they be the heliconia artists, gently nipping a blush into every bloom? 

Nothing gentle about this exuberant bougainvillea screaming its presence! Rambunctious climber, irrepressible bloom-smith, unfussy tenant .. who doesn't appreciate the bountiful blooms of the bougainvillea when sunny, roasting hot days drag by? 

Sprays of Petrea wrap my garden in a soothing cloud of lavenders and purples fading into silvery grey. Twirling ballerinas of the botanical realm, each bloom matures into a role rarely essayed. How many flowers, after all, can spin and dance on the Spring breeze?  

And sometimes the heavens come down to earth! And high-flying Pariah Kites grant their royal stamp of approval to my humble bird-bath. Spring today, Summer tomorrow; a bird's got to sip and dip. In the meantime, they have an awestruck pair of eyes (and camera lens) following their every regal move!   

High up on the denuded teak trees, the very voluble parakeets screech and gossip about every passerby and every new tree in fruit. They love hanging around my garden now. No one will disturb their babies here and there are plenty of tender cashewnuts on the trees to gnaw on.

Tender cashewnuts, did I say? Oh so young to imagine the trial by fire awaiting it, to prove itself and be crowned king of the palate! Hundreds of bunches of these very quirky fruits are growing now, kissed by the Spring sunshine, dreaming of the day when the cashew-apples will be full-grown and all filled out. No celebrations for a Size Zero here!

Until then these Star Gooseberries are rocking the show in my garden. Clusters and clusters of them crowding the trees until the branches bend down, almost begging to be picked. 

The child in me loves the slight sourness in every pop of these. Have you found the child in you drooling over this too? 

Or, over this? The Carambolas are growing too. These star-shaped fruit are such an attractive sight, on the tree or the table. Or on the hawkers' carts. Did they use to sell the Carambola, dipped in salt and red-hot chilli powder, outside your school too? Does your mouth begin to water when you see this photo, as mine is beginning to?

Spring. And the Winter vegetables are still yielding.
Fresh crisp green cabbages growing among a forest of iron-rich red amaranths. Just as colourful as it looks and a hundred times more flavour-packed.
Did you know that ever since I grew the cabbages among the red amaranths, I've had less trouble with the foliage vandals? All the grasshoppers seem to be drawn to the red amaranths, leaving the cabbage alone.

On the roads, the Rain Trees are dotted with flowers. 

In my home, a few brave (and fool-hardy) centipedes try to barge in and are summarily tossed out on their ear!
But I do sneak an admiring glance at those mango-yellow boots. This gal has style!

And why am I repeating a pic of this Blue? Just because. 

Because it's so pretty and has a cute up-turned nose and big, big eyes.

Because it has a model's poise; look at the bend of that knee.

Because it knows where to hang out ... in my garden.

Because I like this photo.

And because it's Spring!

And because Spring means that all kinds of pretty fragrant flowers like this Vallaris are making the air heady with their scent. 

sigh .... did I mention that I absolutely love Spring? 

Kochi-Muziris Biennale : The art of new beginnings - Part II

(This is a preview of a post on my other blog, Chai 'n Spice. To read the complete post, click on the link at the end of the post here. Or click on the link to Chai 'n Spice in the side-bar)

Welcome back to the concluding post about the Kochi-Muziris Biennale. If you missed the first post, 'KMB: The Art of New Beginnings',  head here to catch up.

..... Following up to the awesome graffiti on the building which caught my eye, the next stop was Calvetty Jetty.

Rigo 23's (yes, that is the name he goes by) 'Echo Armada' is one of the most interesting installations! Go to Calvetty Jetty to see this trio, but first click on the link. I loved reading the story behind these works. And I .......

Click here to read the full post  over on my other blog. Don't miss it!

Kochi-Muziris Biennale: the art of new beginnings

(This is a preview of a post on my other blog, Chai 'n Spice. To read the complete post, click on the link at the end of the post here. Or click on the link to Chai 'n Spice in the side-bar)  

I've always thought Fort Cochin (or Fort Kochi ) is like one of those story-book places; full-of old-world charm and slightly fantastical ... as if it's living in its own time-zone ...

But now, it looks like I've to stretch my mind a bit more and include the art that is spilling out onto its streets too. And drawing more people than I've ever seen there before.

Now, I can almost picture Kochi's predecessor and alter-ego, Muziris , as it must have been, way back in the first century A.D. ... 

Today, centuries after this port-town on the Malabar coast of Kerala in the southern tip of India, fabled for its access to treasured spices, timber and gems, was flooded by the river Periyar and sank into anonymity, it finds a resurrection of sorts in India's first Biennale. The Kochi-Muziris Biennale  .

Click here to read more about the Kochi-Muziris Biennale over at my other blog, Chai 'n Spice. (start at the beginning, okay? I've edited out quite a bit here)

And, yes, I know my Munnar travelogue isn't complete. That's waiting in the wings too. Soon!

Travel : taking the high road to Munnar

I've been arm-chair travelling, my computer and I. We've been stuck in Mumbai while the rest of the city was on holiday(the Diwali vacations should be called Travel Vacations!). So I'm trawling through my library of photos and have been re-living journeys past... smiling, remembering, refreshing memories long buried under the files of daily life.
Join me?

Isn't it amazing that the journey can be twice as beautiful and ten times more interesting than the destination? Journeys tell stories. Of lives and dreams and hope. Every passer-by is a spark for the imagination.
That man pacing at the bus-stop, is he waiting for his daughter to come home?
That boy running down the road, maybe he's found a secret path to the river where all the tadpoles have just hatched. Or maybe his mom is just shouting at him to hurry and buy some biscuits from the shop because some guests have dropped by. Maybe he had polished off everything in the pantry when she wasn't looking. Or maybe the guest is his teacher with a long list of complaints!

And so we go, past serene rivers that flow languidly between dreamy banks of gossiping trees, and holding up a mirror to misty, hazy hills that go up on tip-toe to watch the world go by.

Past tiny little villages and homes sheltered by giant trees, each one promising stories to tell. I want to live here for a day, climb up those rough-hewn steps overgrown with moss and grass, listen to the wind soughing through the trees.
I'm sure there are wild-flowers there . And a zillion butterflies. Maybe even a little mongoose or two. I'm sure a hundred birds are calling too... if I could only linger to hear them all.

On, past ginormous trees laden so heavily with fruit that they tempt me to stop, taste and linger. I could pause here and wait for each and every one of those jungle-jack fruits to plop down, relish their golden sweet-tart juiciness all-day long.

Pause a bit when local customs demand it. Even if it means knocking your head on a stone marker, as locals recommend all first-timers to these mountains do, to keep away all traces of car-sickness.
Even if you don't ever get car-sick. And even if you don't have to bang your head quite that hard!


And on again, past cool waterfalls racing and tumbling down in a breathless rush. Reaching out and splashing me with a come-and-play tingling spray of icy-cold water. Throwing out little rainbows that add a surreal touch of magic to the scene.
I love the look of water on rough rocks, the damp gleam and sheen. Almost as much as I love the music of falling water. Crashing, roaring, splashing...


And the little make-shift stalls that dot the way, selling mangoes and gooseberries and chillies and wax-apples... all floating in their own little pool of brine and spices. I wonder if they know how luscious those fruits look, displayed against those worn, dark planks reeking of wood-smoke and a thousand glasses of kattan-chaya (strong black tea) .


Linger awhile to marvel at a couple of Bonnet Macaques (see that little thatch of hair? That's how they got the 'bonnet' tag!) sharing a meal. A banana, a juicy, ripe mango and a fist-ful of peanuts make a feast fit to tempt even a simian king.

And smile at the wrinkle-faced little one swinging on a rope-like liana hanging from the super-tall trees. Absolute cuteness!
But what the camera cut off and what you can't see here is the absolutely deep ravine that it was hanging over, with nothing but a very precarious toe-hold on life.

Then gasp in awe as you look around and see yet another waterfall, driving down and pounding huge boulders to sand in what must be a centuries-old mission. Centuries? no, more like since the days when Time was a baby.


Then shiver a little with delighted excitement as the first chill breezes roll off the mountain-tops and the first velvet-y manicured bushes of tea steal into sight. Climbing the accident-prone ghats safely and nearing the destination prompts a sigh of thanks from many drivers who stop by tiny little road-side shrines like this one. And even more fervent prayers from others on their way down the winding, treacherous ghat-roads.

And then it's in sight. The destination. The reason for the long, long drive.
But I would make that trip to Munnar just for the magic of the journey. And the wonder of spectacular landscapes and stories guessed at, thronging past my window.

(Did you enjoy this little travelogue of the journey to Munnar? If you did, come back for the next post. I've got a ton of pictures to show you! You didn't think I'd leave you at the door-step to Munnar and not let you in, did you?! 
And, if you just can't wait, take a look here . 
Or go see 'Life of Pi'. I haven't seen it yet but I'm told Ang Lee has done a great job of show-casing Munnar's beauty in the film. I wonder how he enjoyed the journey ... )