Son, that is a purple rat, the dad confidently proclaimed. Be careful, might bite. Papa, that looks like Chintu squirrel that eats our chapatis in the morning, only larger. No son, it’s a rat. Keep away. It pisses on people. Who knows what diseases could come with that thing… Covid, smallpox, and all that. His mother gripped him with greater fervour and the party edged through the jungle clearing with some trepidation.
Overhead in the canopy, the Malabar giant squirrel moved on in pursuit of more berries.
Chitra and I looked at each other, incredulous.
On the safari trail later that afternoon, Papa scanned the sunlight streaming through the verdant bush and proclaimed, what this country needs is development. Imagine how many more people could enjoy this view if they lived right here?
But Papa, then there wouldn’t be any bush, right? With a glint in his eye, Papa said, we can always grow bushes, can’t we? Like Arshad does in our garden every Sunday?
But Papa…
Hush child, Mama said, talking loudly could invite the beasts.
Mummy, that’s what we came for, right?
Sharing the dinner table, Son came across hesitantly and asked, Uncle, can I look through your binoculars? Sure, I said, but in the morning, when we are out on the trail again. It’s too dark now.
Ohhh… Papa says we are leaving in the morning as we have to see the Palace.
That’s too bad, I thought your family might stay on for a day more. There are so many lovely birds here. And plants and trees that thrill you with their colours and shapes.
No Uncle, Papa says we will see only tigers in the jungle. We can see sparrows and pigeons in the city, he said. I sighed.
Come along then. Let’s see what we can get now.
The two of us wound gingerly across the path leading to the dining room. A few paces off the path I heard a familiar sound. I scanned the canopy intently with my LED torch. Nothing, but faintly, a very light flutter of wings. Hope yet, I thought. We trudged into a thicket, beyond which the moon lit a splendid opening in the forest. It was ringed by sal and eucalyptus trees that gleamed in a white glow.
You try son. Up there, beneath the top, and above the trunks. The light from the torch jagged across the leaves and branches. A light breeze blew up. Not much action, but it was a beautiful and calm night.
No, uncle, I can’t see anything.
OK. What did you look for?
Oh, some birds with bright feathers, like a peacock?
Not bad, and there could be a peacock resting now, but they would be difficult to spot in this light. Let’s do it together now.
I steadied his hand as we played the beam of light across the web of branch and foliage in the darkness. A lot of to-and-fro. And then we saw it. A gleam. A pinpoint that quickly became two orange-red points in the murk of the forest gloom. I moved the beam lightly across the points of light and there was movement! The points moved laterally and now faced us squarely. A magnificent raptor, a bird of prey.
Now let’s be careful son. We don’t want to disturb it too much. They need their rest too. That is the Brown Fish Owl. It hunted its prey all day at the small lake we passed this evening on our return from the safari trail. Now it is carefully sheltered and resting for another day of work tomorrow. We spoke on, and I patiently tried to answer Son’s feverish queries about the Owl’s habits, its love life, food, and the fate of its prey. Hushed whispers, soto voce. A swarm of fireflies flushed into the light and vanished again. Son watched agape.
And then I had to lead him back, both of us reluctant to leave this wonderland in the middle of nowhere.
As we sneaked back into the dining room, I saw Chitra in active conversation with Papa. She winked at me and continued a hectic discussion perhaps on the state of the nation. Mama was slumped across the sofa, almost asleep and still clutching her glass of red wine.
Sonny and I decided to call it a day. He wanted to message his friends at home about his encounters with the wild. Or at least let Poorna, the love of his life, know about them. Chitra wound the discussion up pleading fatigue, quickly grabbed my arm and we climbed the stairs to our room.
I had to cover for you. Endured Papa’s theories of race and religion, and…
Never mind, I interjected, you did good. The little fellow learnt something new today, and I may have left my spoor on him! In a nice way. He’ll go beyond sparrows and pigeons now, whatever Papa says.
