The Queen's tank at Ambala

What caught my attention was the legend Rani Talao, or the queens' tank on a direction board and on the spur of a moment, I decided to see the place. Was pleasantly surprised to find such peaceful and serene surroundings and all credit goes to the cantonment management. The tank's claim to fame is that the queen of Ranjit Singh, the local rajah used to take a dip in the tank every morning before offering homage to the Shiva temple around 400 years ago. Presently, the Army has taken over the maintenance of the temple and therefore the area is exceptionally clean and green. These are a few pictures of the place, taken in my phone

Shiva temple

Durga temple viewed from the Shiva temple

The sky was overcast and several peacocks strutted around. I could also spot a greater coucal in the bushes, which is of the cuckoo family, black body with chestnut brown wings. 

Every Indian city, town and village has numerous Shiva temples and Shiva is also considered to be the adi yogi, or the precursor of all Yogis. Over a period of time, certain individuals, circumstances or events lend significance to some. While all temples draw people in need of a favour or two from the powers above, Shiva temples in particular have always drawn wandering mendicants, hermits and those who are spiritually inclined. Here, I met a gentleman in white, flowing robes from the State of Andhra Pradesh and of an exceptionally sunny countenance who was patiently answering queries of a few elderly people and a young regimental from Maharashtra. I would have loved to chat with him for sometime, but by the time I took a round and came back, he was gone. 

Jasmine in July

The rains are here at last. Mercifully, for the earth is parched, water tables have dived far below and mortal beings are in dour need of some aqueous succour. But in these climes of the National Capital Region, it rains only in fits and starts. Sometimes, it pours, but that's nothing compared to the steady rains of the Mumbai area, the abundance of water that pours and pours and then some. In retrospect, I must say that I loved that gratuitous abundance which nature thinks it fit to bless Mumbai with, the carefree song that rose up in everyone's soul, the piping hot and pungent vada pao with dried garlic condiment and an equally hot chickpea gravy, the chaos in disruptions of the suburban railways, the wash of the sea on Marine Drive and the sheer fun of it all

With the change in season, the jasmine bushes have begun to flower and it is truly heavenly, sitting on the grass at night with the mischievous scent of jasmine permeating the air. One day after coming back from work a bit earlier than usual when there was still some light on the sky, I found the jasmine buds ready to bloom 

At that moment between light and night, under the canopy of the infinitely blue sky. The moment of everythingness, of times gone by

Couldn't help but remember Tagore once again. Chokkhe amar trishna, thirst in my eyes ..

Well, I have had a go at translating this song in English, as I understood it in my own way. It's of course a relief that I don't have to explain to anyone anywhere. So that's my take ...

Thirst in my eyes, and

Thirst pervading my heart

Me, bereft of rain, as in

Summertime, burning

In my mind

Thirst in my eyes

A storm rushes in, heated

Winds, flinging me faraway

Tearing my shroud away

Thirst in my eyes

That one, delicate flowering

That had my garden aglow

Parched and blackened now

Thirst in my eyes

Who is it, that 
dammed the fall
in heartless stone 

In the peaks 
of Sorrowhood Mountain

Thirst in my eyes, oh

Thirst running in my heart

And then, at night, the jasmine is in full bloom, unimaginably heady and I never cease to wonder at the mystery and beauty of it

Out of the four jasmine bushes, one is apparently of a different variety, a dedicated climber. Amazing how all these bushes have started flowering with the rains, as if on cue from an unseen hand that plays us all 

 

A beautiful and a stunning mystery, the waft of jasmine. Perhaps no one has understood her, being content just with loving her as she is. But then, she is meant to be loved, not understood, right?

Purple Sunbird again

A couple of Sundays back, early afternoon, I managed to click this beautiful bird. Not to my heart's content though! For it was forever flitting away, now here and now there. For a few moments, it took some time cleaning its feathers, perched on the electricity line, and allowed me to click away ..

Looking for the next flower

Slurp slurp

Itchy bitchy

Now that's a beauty!

Keen appraisal

Because, these birds I have come to believe, can be captured in camera only when they have appraised us enough and allow themselves the indignity of letting a human being click them!