Hoopoe, oh dear Hoopoe, where are you? This sad birdwatcher sorely misses you

                           

Lovely and loveable Hoopoe! I simply adore this bird. A small, myna-sized avian friend, it has such a pretty fawn-coloured plumage with black and white zebra markings hand-crafted by nature into an interesting geometric design on the back, wings and tail. A charming, fan-shaped crest on the head adds to its overall beauty and grace; the long, slender, curvaceous beak no less. On its plumage, stylish crest in particular (Hoopoe’s very own fashion statement, I would say), M Krishnan, one of India’s finest birdmen (next to Salim Ali) and known for his scintillating writings on birds/wildlife has the following to say:

“The very full crest is spread out into a flamboyant fan, then suddenly shut tight into a spike counterbalancing the curved line of the beak, this gesture being repeated again and again as if to relieve the tedium of the long, pedestrian search for food. There are many birds with highly emotional tails, but here it is the head that wears the crown that is uneasy. The folding and unfolding of the volatile crest express the entire emotional range of the bird, and each passing mood. I have seen a Hoopoe indulge in this play with its crest six times within a minute for no reason that I could discern, but there are rules regulating its conduct in search of prey, or when it takes off from the ground, the crest is shut close, and just before alighting from flight it is fanned out as fully as it can be…

Hoopoe on the lawn is strikingly decorative as any bird of strange plumage, though it is fulfilling a daily need and being useful to us-- how rarely does beauty go with routine need and utility! As the bird moves forward on invisible feet, the slanting sun touches it, turning the fulvous sienna (brownish yellow) of its breast and crest to liquid gold, revealing fully the emphatic contrasts of black and white in the back….”
That was the distinguished M Krishnan on Hoopoe.

I, a humble Palampurwalla,  often used to meet this bird in the open grassland near Differpat (beside the road from SSB chowk to  Neugal café, Palampur) on my morning walks and feel thrilled by its sight. At times a Hoopoe would - out of nowhere - descend on the outer, grassy part of our courtyard in search of worms, grubs and insects- its staple food. However, sadly, I see this bird no more. The large sloping meadow at Differpat now supports two eye sores:  a government tea nursery and a big PWD store. Some buildings too have come up virtually obliterating this patch of green where once sheep and cattle used to graze and young boys and girls played their छुपन-छुपाई, स्टापू, फिड्डु and other such rural games now almost extinct. Since this (shamlat) pasture-land afforded a spectacular view, I often took an evening stroll too and sitting on a rock watched the preternatural bliss of a setting sun.

Quite often I wonder and worry why this dainty little bird, once quite ubiquitous, has become so elusive now? Has it become another victim to the fast expanding jungles of concrete? Has it suffered serious habitat loss? Has its population dwindled to alarmingly low levels? If so, we would have lost – or might do so in the near future - not just a bird that was not only a picture of loveliness but a great friend of the farmer as well. For, many of the crop pests that worry the farmer are Hoopoe’s favourite food.  

Well, if you love watching birds like I do - or even if you don’t - do look for this one on any open grassland or a pasture: it is so easily, unmistakably recognisable. Greet it and welcome it.  Appreciate the beauty of its plumage and its graceful movements especially the fanning out and then shrinking back of its fabulous crest (as so aptly described by Krishnan) and how it goes about pecking the ground with its artistically carved beak. You will be mesmerised. And, as you walk by, please don’t forget to say to it my Hello and tell: “Hi Hoopoe! Subhash, your old friend, loves you so, dearie; and misses you too. Do show up to him some  day.”

                                                     

                                                      ***

          Beware! I am a 'lover'

I am in essence a ‘lover’; and rather an impish and incorrigible one! Well, I think we  are all indeed born to love. It is another matter though that in the course of our life’s journey myriad influences - some sweet, some sour – that impinge upon us give a defining shape to our personality and mind-set. That in turn determines whether one ends up predominantly as a person of love and inclusiveness or the one full of prejudices, malice, violence, hatred and contempt.

As for me, of my many loves, love for the beautiful bounties of nature both big and small, probably comes foremost. And blessed and lucky are we to belong to this part of the globe where mother nature has been so kind and generous to give us its very best: the majestic Dhaualdhar, the hills, the valleys, the rivers, the khuds, deodars and pines, such a bewitching diversity of plants, birds and animals and above all the charming, hospitable, warm, friendly and beautiful men and women to fall in love with. What an ethereal delight it is to go out for a morning walk, inhale the limpid, pine-scented air, pass through the quiet loveliness of the sprawling green carpet of tea gardens and feast your eyes on the first kiss of a golden ray striking the snow-laden mountain crest! How divine it is to perch on a rock of a hill slope and look at the crimson orb of the western sun gently slide behind the silhouette of trees and hills and illuminating the stray wandering clouds by its red-hued incandescence for a fleeting few seconds. Those moments cast a magic spell difficult to put into words.

                                           

Books come second. And my love affair with them has been long and most rewarding, and without having had to suffer any heart breaks! The very sight, smell and feel of a good book transports me to an exclusive world of exquisite pleasure. A thought-provoking passage or a story, a witty barb, a sharp retort, a pleasing metaphor, a pithy, life-revealing philosophical observation, a catchy turn of phrase, some rich tapestry of imagination in a poem, elegant prose make book reading a source of rarest of life's delights. And my range is wide and varied: from autobiographies to fiction to travelogues to mythology to science…in short any stuff that is inspiring or stimulating that tingles and tickles my cerebral cells; I  can - by way of a dessert - also slurp something titillating even, if not vulgar. I have read some and want to read many more.

I love a bit of pen pushing too - both small prose and simple little poetic flourishes - despite my very limited writing abilities. It helps me unwind and give vent to pent up feelings, deeper emotions, and anger and rage on the personal, social and environmental issues that confront us, most of which I share with you all and urge you to be proactive about.

Company of good friends comes next. I don’t have very many. But dearly love the few I have. It is sheer joy to spend time with them and enjoy their empathy, warmth, good humour, jokes (vegan as well as non-vegan!), anecdotes, free-wheeling chat on current events, some light banter, some gupshup and so on. The pleasure becomes manifold, if there is a good drink to boot.

I have long cherished and longed for the company of women-friends but have been singularly unlucky. Perhaps my overwhelming, blushing shyness has been the main stumbling block. (I do however have an enduring and mutually fruitful long-distance ‘exchanges’ with some of my ex-students, a few of whom have been noble, kind and sporting enough to put up with my idiosyncrasies!) I think the company of a woman of ‘substance’ and good learning, cerebral, enlightened, uninhibited, and not suffering from male-mistrust-syndrome can catapult you to heavenly heights of ecstasy and inspiration. She can trigger the flow of creative juices in you and make you do wonders in life. Conversely, a mean, parochial, conceited, suspicious, deceitful, hypocritical one can despatch you to infernal depths of doom and gloom. (To be dead honest, supercilious  women [and men] masquerading as 'religious saints' frighten and scare me.)  In the insular, conservative milieu that we inhabit, the former kind is a rarity. Moreover, in the present times when crimes and brutal violence against women have become almost daily news, the prospect of finding a truly enlightened feminine soul and striking a friendly, mutually rewarding chord with her don’t seem too bright.  But if  you do bump into one, go all out to woo her though I would be quietly very jealous of you!

Lastly, as my profile says it too, I adore my tipple: some 'soulful sipfuls' to round off the day with when I can give free rein to my flights of fancy, fantasize about and weave my utopias and be in my fragile but sweet little 'love-world'. 

Well, there is a lot more to write on my ‘loves’ but some other time...perhaps over a drink!

            I am a godman

     

I am a godman, listen you one and all,

Bend and bow, lest from my graces, you fall.

Am a God’s true messenger, His blessings on you I shall shower,

Touch my feet and worship me well: both with money and flower.

No doubt I was born poor, indigent, weak and hungry,

But now I am a ‘Miracle Baba’ as known to all and sundry:

A spiritual guru in my own rights and of a world-renown,

With wealth, power and mass following in almost every town.

To my guru - now no more - I am ever so grateful, for helping me make the grade,

Who taught me some useful mantras and clever tricks of this wonderful trade.

People adore me, worship me and sing hymns in my glory and name,

Mantris, santries and big babus seek my blessings for health, wealth and fame.

For me it is a just a sleight of hand after long practice– a conjuror’s trick,

To roll out a gold ring or a watch tucked behind my sleeve- with just a wrist’s flick.

But for the gullible, Baba-crazy world, it is a miracle good and true,

Suits me fine as it draws men and women of every shade and hue.

To the sonless couples and swooning women I offer the gift of holy ash,

Costs me nothing (being a bonfire residue) but earns me bagfuls of rich cash.

My word is holy and my diktat final and binding for the foolishly faithful,

A mantra whispering god incarnate I am to the paying bhaktas ever so grateful.

But being after all human, when carnal lust does haul me over passion’s hot ambers,

Easily, as lord Krishna’s avatar, I handpick eager gopis to be lead to my inner chambers.

But (curse befall them!)  the media’s shameless  eye upon us of late, fills me with much dread,

In Kaliyuga, though God’s very own, still with caution this path of (sinful) bliss I need to tread.

Thus our credibility and (feigned) powers for miracles suffer due to media’s sharp tooth and claw,

Besides being exposed to the prospect of long term jail under the cruel instruments of law.

Shall, I wonder, in such tragic way my wealth, name and fame, glory all be gone?

Or will some gullible politician in power usher me back into the good old dawn?

The present election winds though do rekindle in me a flicker of heart-warming hope,

My sagging fortunes may turn with the enthronement of a good new Baba-bhakt Pope.

                                           ***

Caring two hoots for the rules and norms the HP cabinet on 27 September, has signed the death warrant for the tea gardens; and as news reports say one influential owner of Dharamsala is the immediate and direct beneficiary. What a shame! What arrogance! What abuse of power and  authority! Have  the sane and sensible people of HP, the environmentalists, the NGOs, all gone to sleep? Will the leaders of opposition rise to the occasion, protest and oppose this? Will they promise to nullify this deed if voted to power? Will the HP High Court take suo moto notice of this blatant violation of rules by the govt to appease a powerful teagarden owner and not let it get away with this? Will some good Samaritan file a PIL? I hope and pray that something happens and this disaster-wrapped-in-tragedy is averted.

                          ***

Plastic wins and our good old leafplates (पत्तल ) lose out

Are the days of relishing the Kangri dham served by the dhoti-clad boti and his team on fresh, green leaf-plates (पत्तल) now over? Days, when on a neat and clean, cow-dung plastered, sunny courtyard, we squatted in rows and slurped steamy hot madras, dals and the khatta?  Well, more or less, yes. Over the years, those absolutely lovely, inviting and health-safe leaf-plates have given way to ugly plastic plates: simply because plastic plates are cheaper and easy to get from the market and so convenient to use. (Cheaper yes; convenient by all means; but what are the health costs?) And to make the whole picture thoroughly revolting, instead of those open courtyards in the rapidly urbanizing countryside we now have the shamiana-canopied grounds covered with those dirty, dusty, grimy, over-used and utterly unhygienic,  green ‘carpet-spreads’ where we sit and eat out of the plastic plates.  Plastic, I hardly need emphasize and repeat, is carcinogenic; the low grade type but cost-effective used for plates/thalis etc. even more so. Secondly, plastic, being non-biodegradable, is an abominably notorious environment polluter. Plastic discards uglify our hill slopes, forests, khuds, kuhls, roadsides and even the pristine wildernesses of our beautiful countryside. They pollute our soil, water and air, and garbage dumps with plastic leftovers attract monkeys, stray dogs, birds and vermin; cows end up having their guts choked with plastic. (No wonder that much to the alarm of scientists, large chunks of polluting plastic have been discovered  far up at the North Pole. The fear is that when ice melts, this plastic will be released into the Arctic ocean.) But the sad fact is that despite this awareness and knowledge about the hazards of plastic, we, the urban elite, caught in the rat race, our life’s priorities topsy-turvied by greed, life of ease, and a mad scramble for materialistic gains at all costs, use plastic with gay abandon for the weddings and all other kinds of celebratory occasions without a second’s thought about the hazards and damage we are inflicting on our environment and society. 
Now coming back to our vanishing leaf-plates, though I don’t claim any scientific evidence, I have a personal theory howsoever fallacious, silly and ludicrous that perhaps the leaf-plates also soak some of the extra oil and fat that our dhams have in good measure – while plastic can’t and doesn’t – and help you enjoy your dham without accumulating an overdose of unwanted calories and life-threatening cholesterol.

In short, as the news report in The Tribune (25 September 2017) indicates, we are not just being callous about our own health and hostile to the environment, we are also driving the men and women of our villages who make those leaf-plates, out of their livelihood. If the present trend continues, there will  be no hands left to make those plates and gradually this  tradition will be lost forever. Let us therefore, reverse this unhealthy drift and switch back to the old practice by taking a little extra trouble to procure and use our good old pattals for our feasts, weddings and parties.Happy, healthy (dham) eating!          

***

Cheers! Death sentence on tea gardens is averted for now but...

The Kangra valley must have heaved a huge sigh of relief at the news item that the HP cabinet in its meeting held on 18 September 2017 decided against allowing the sale of land under tea gardens of the chosen few. If not my petition which I had launched on change.org against this government move, maybe at least our prayers were heard. (And at this juncture I would like to heartily thank all my friends who stood up and signed the petition.) It is indeed wise and prudent of the HP cabinet to have  resisted the pressure and desisted from such an unsound move with terrible environmental costs. Wise and prudent for its own sake also because elections are around the corner and the present government can ill-afford to rub the पब्लिक  - 'जो सब जानती है' - the wrong way. So may be for a short term, the death sentence that was likely to be pronounced on this ‘green treasure’ of the valley has been averted at least for the time being. But the enlightened citizenry must remain vigilant and proactive to thwart such an attempt should it rear its head again…which it will, sooner or later. Being fence sitters and fuming and fretting with impotent rage will not help matters. Eternal vigilance is the price we have to pay for protecting and preserving our nature and its priceless wonders which help us keep our sanity, well-being and aesthetic health intact in this screwed up world. So my dear fellow citizens of Kangra, arise, awake and stop not, and do not let the  politicians of any hue befool us, take us for a ride and get away with their environmental misdeeds and misdemeanors: for posterity’s sake if not for ourselves. And we can do it in our own little, discreet, dignified ‘Gandhian’ ways without confrontation and street fighting.

                                                    

...But why land plots for legislators?

However, as we begin to put our hands together to clap our masters for the good deed, the good feeling engendered in us is at once dissipated and replaced with disgust by another act of the government in the very same meeting. As if the doles, perks and privileges being already enjoyed by our state’s lawmakers are not enough, the obliging cabinet in another grand gesture of generosity decided to offer them yet another bonanza: plots of land for homes at cheaper rates. When this already privileged class is already having the exclusive benefit of soft loans at dirt cheap rates of interest, what is the Goddamn rationale behind this act of munificence? Perhaps, with the election dates now closing in, the worthy legislators are in desperate hurry to grab whatever crumbs they can lay their hands on in this open and free loot, before the model code of conduct comes into play and puts paid to their dreams of a life of luxury and splendour at the cost of hard-pressed taxpayer’s money.

To conclude, I commend the government and the sane heads in the cabinet that helped good sense prevail and prevent the tea-garden sale, but I express my deep anger and anguish at the second move. 

                                                           

                                                      ***

    Founder Vice-Chancellor of CSKHPKV leaves a void

        (16 August 1922 – 12 September 2017)

On a sun-lit noon of Tuesday, 12 September 2017, a pall of gloom descended on Palampur as the news got viral: Dr Het Ram Kalia is no more. Certainly, not just Palampur but the passing away of this legendary figure will be mourned far and wide: across the country and beyond. Dr Kalia’s is a story of a boy from  a rather remote Hamirpur village Jahu defying all odds, excelling in academics and finally making it to  the Ohio University in the USA through sheer brilliance and sharp intellect. Thus, returning home with a doctorate under his belt, for him sky was the limit.  He did a brief stint at HAU Hissar but finally his love for his own soil drew him to Himachal. And under his stewardship a College of Agriculture under PAU, Ludhiana, sprang up at Palampur in 1966. It was largely through his dynamism, vision and perseverance that this very college blossomed into what is now called the CSK HPKV, Palampur of which he became the founding Vice-Chancellor in 1978. In the formative years the challenges for him were many and varied but Dr Kalia steered the University’s ship with rare acumen and aplomb to make it one of the premier agricultural institutes of the country.

Dr Kalia was not just a brilliant scientist and a teacher. He was an able administrator and a visionary with a kind, noble soul. His radiant, vibrant persona with a neat, well-groomed crop of snow-white hair adorning his head lent him a peculiar aura. One can’t imagine meeting him even fleetingly and failing to come under his magic spell and charisma. He spoke impeccable, flawless English but had a special love for Urdu and the Pahari dialect as well. A learner always and imbued with childlike curiosity he, more than once, had  expressed his keen desire to learn Sanskrit from my father. Dr Kalia inspired all and helped a whole lot of youth climb ladders of success, build their careers and live happily ever after. His contribution in the field of agriculture and for the promotion of science has been matchless and laudable. Another defining feature of his tenure at the HPKV was the grace and gravitas he lent to the exalted chair of a Vice-Chancellor by keeping it sacrosanct and not letting the politicians erode its academic sheen.

In the evening of his life, he led a calm, quiet life in the serene and tranquil environs of his Palampur home (looked after by the Kalia clan with loving care)  against the backdrop of the mighty and magnificent Dhauladhar. The void this iconic personality, Dr H R Kalia, leaves amongst us – and more particularly in the academic world - will be hard to fill.
                                                                   ***

An open letter to fellow Kangra valley residents: 

Let us offset the proposed government move to premit sale of tea gardens

My dear fellow Kangra valley residents,

Departing from routine kind of posts, this time I am making it an open personal communication. Forgive me if I sound too presumptuous or intrusive.

As residents of this beautiful valley you must all be witness to fast shrinking green cover, unplanned, unregulated construction, unchecked encroachments on our narrow roads and what not. Unscientific mining, tunnelling, hill cutting, dynamiting, tree felling have severely degraded the fragile hill-ecology in many parts of the state. Therefore land/mudslides this time have been more massive and destructive than ever before.  With such dismal scenario as a backdrop, there comes this news almost like a bomb shell:  the proposed government move to frame a policy to allow sale of tea gardens. And it is carried in a newspaper of standing, The Tribune, dated 29 August 2017 and 30 August 2017.

Don’t you think, as I do, that this would sound a death knell for whatever little is left of the pristine green cover of the valley? The tea gardens with a fairly good tree canopy for shade as an essential requirement for good tea growth are not just the “lungs” of the area but they are part of our environmental heritage. Wiping them out wholesale would be disastrous both environmentally and as part of a valuable legacy we have grown to live with. And if it happens so, it would be the last sad chapter in the story of 'Death of the Valley'.

Therefore instead of crying hoarse, lamenting and shedding tears after the deed is done and when it is too late, let’s all join hands to pre-empt this. Let’s request and put pressure on the government not to frame any such kind of policy. With this end in view I have initiated a petition on the site called change.org. change.org has already run several public interest campaigns with resounding success. If you feel that you have stakes in preserving the green cover of the valley, then I request you to sign the petition and share it with your friends on Facebook and other social networking sites. For this you will have to visit the site, sign up and become a member. Please do so and let’s get going. After enough signatures have been obtained change.org will forward it to the CM and CJ (High Court) for action and will keep you posted with its progress by e-mail. And if we succeed, we could launch more such public campaigns to preserve the green glory of our valley for ourselves and more importantly for the coming generations.

Last but not the least, I must add that I bear no hostility or malice towards the owners of tea gardens. I have wonderful rapport and strong family ties running for generatioins with some of them. I mean them no harm, no ill will at all. Nor do I have any political agenda of any kind.  Therefore I am sure they will view this initiative in the right perspective and excuse my audacity, if any. I also want to add that some of them have been active in public life and have been and still are contributing significantly to the development of the area. I, unhesitatingly, place on record my unstinted support for their public contribution,  and respect, love and admiration due on account of our strong family bonds, but (humbly) exercise my right to  express my views - for whatever they are worth - on a issue of immense environmental consequences. 

Yours truly,

Subhash

***