The Great Indian Bustard

When independent India was choosing its national bird, one of the candidates that didn't make the selection was the Great Indian Bustard (GIB), due, in part, to the rather unfortunate reason that a misspelling of the bird's name would lead to sniggers. If the GIB had been chosen as the national bird, my guess is its fate would probably have been different. As it turns out today, only an estimated 150 survive in the wild, with a vast majority of them residing in Pokaran. This is the region in Rajasthan where India conducted its nuclear tests, and much of this region is still used by the army for artillery practice drills. The GIB's last preserve is an area that is expressly unfit for most other life. If that's not a commentary on the Anthropocene, I don't know what is.

On my first day at Pokaran, as we set out in the early hours in search of the GIB, I was reminded of Douglas Adams' book "Last Chance to See," in which Adams and his co-author go in search of species on the brink of extinction. For me, this trip was probably my own last chance to see this spectacular bird. We first went to a large stretch of grasslands that the local Bishnoi community has set aside for the preservation of the GIB. We waited for hours but failed to spot a single one. That evening, one of the local forest rangers, a passionate conservationist from the local community, volunteered to take me to another enclosure guarded by the state forest department. As soon as we entered the fenced enclosure, it looked like a different habitat with acres of lush, un-grazed golden grass. Within minutes we spotted our first Bustard, shyly watching us from the safety of about 200m distance. Even from this distance, it was remarkable to see that this large bird could actually take off from the ground and fly long distances.

After driving around for another hour, we spotted a larger male displaying its impressive gular patch. I couldn't photograph the bird since it was far away and partly hidden in the shade of a Khejri tree. I had finally seen a species of which only around 100-150 individuals survive in the wild. Even as I made my trip to these parts, I was burdened with the mixed emotions of excitement and foreboding. However, after my personal experience here, I came away feeling a little more optimistic. Some of the conservation initiatives are promising. The habitat of the Bustard has been reasonably well-preserved within the fenced enclosures.

Some of the biggest threats to the bird are the high tension wires criss-crossing this region. My colleagues here have installed deflectors all over the lines, combining flapping pieces visible in the daytime with flickering red lights at night, these devices help the birds navigate away from danger. But most of all, what fills me with hope is the spirit of the Bishnoi community. They've stayed true to their reputation as uncompromising custodians of this habitat. So far, they've held out against the increasing commercial pressures. As long as they stand guard, I'm confident these magnificent birds will bounce back.

Farm Fauna - 2025 Edition

The first time I installed camera traps on our farm, they revealed an astonishing level of wildlife activity. Sadly, in the 6–8 years I’ve been monitoring the fauna here, I’ve noticed a discernible decline in sightings, mostly due to increased human activity. City folks bought up the surrounding land—especially during the pandemic—and what was once a contiguous habitat has become fragmented by the proliferation of hard fences.

I still follow my evening ritual of setting up camera traps in places frequented by animals, but these days, I’m prepared for empty pickings in the morning. This February, however, brought a surprise. Our resident leopard is still on the prowl, and judging by its appearance, it seems fairly well-fed.

Another animal caught on camera this month was an even bigger surprise. We store coconuts under one of the mango trees, and rarely does anything go missing. But over the past month, we noticed a few coconuts disappearing and assumed they were stolen. It left us a little unsettled since theft is uncommon in these parts. I had hidden a camera trap in the trees to gather evidence. This morning, when I reviewed the footage, the culprit turned out to be a porcupine—the first one ever captured by my camera traps.

Reading in 2024

2024 was the year in which I gave up all social media with the grudging exception of Whatsapp and I used all the time that got freed up in reading discipline. That led me to finishing 30 books, most of which I really enjoyed. The other unusual thing this year was that nearly every other book I read this year was fiction, which in the past few years constituted only a third of my reading (even that was because I was part of a book club that I was trying hard to fit into). 

So here's the list starting with 'fiction'. I ended up reading six of the seven books on the Booker shortlist.  Although I loved 'Orbital' my own personal Booker went to Creation Lake.

• Stoneyard Devotional - Charlotte Wood
• The Midnight Library - Matt Haig
• James - Percival Everett
• Creation Lake - Rachel Kushner
• Orbital - Samantha Harvey
• The Safekeep - Yael van der Wouden

The other fiction I managed to complete (every single one of which I recommend to anyone reading this)

• Samarkand - Amin Malouf
• New York - Edward Rutherford
• Every Man Dies Alone - Hans Fallada
• The Lincoln Highway - Amor Towles
• A Man's Place - Annie Ernaux
• Resurrection Day - Brendan DuBois
• The Beekeeper of Aleppo - Christy Lefteri
• Foster - Claire Keegan

Among the non-fiction list of this year, I really enjoyed the ones in the history genre

• The Golden Road - William Dalrymple
• Gorbachev : His Life and Times - William Taubman
• Anansi's Gold: The man who swindled the world - Yepoko Yeebo

These four from the Science shelf also were very enjoyable

• Behave - Robert M Sapolsky
• Being You: A New Science of Consciousness - Anil Seth
• Every Living Thing: The Great and Deadly Race to Know All Life - Jason Roberts
• The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks - Rebecca Skloot

The rest of this year's list

• The Mom Test - Rob Fitzpatrick
• Dark Wire: The Incredible True Story of the Largest Sting Operation Ever - Joseph Cox
• The Golden Road - William Dalrymple
• Gorbachev : His Life and Times - William Taubman
• Anansi's Gold: The man who swindled the world - Yepoko Yeebo
• Iphigenia in Forest Hills: Anatomy of a Murder Trial - Janet Williams
• I'm Glad My Mom Died - Jennette McCurdy
• Maurice and Maralyn - Sophie Elmhirst 
• The Anxious Generation - Jonathan Haidt
• What Is ChatGPT Doing ... and Why Does It Work? - Stephen Wolfram
• A Beginner’s Guide to Japan - Pico Iyer

The Cheetah hunt in Amboseli

 The trip to Kenya was full of special moments in 2024, this sighting of a cheetah hunt in Amboseli deserved its own David Attenborough voiceover. We first spotted the cheetah when she seemed on high alert, half-crouched in a stalking position. Following her gaze, we saw a herd of gazelles grazing about 300 meters away. That seemed like long distance to cover but this is the fastest land animal.  

She was perfectly camouflaged in the dry grass, but she also had to cross the plain beige of the mud track where we were parked—her spots would clearly stand out and risk blowing her cover. By now, as is often the case on safaris these days, all the other vehicles had been alerted, and a dozen of them were parked on either side of the line connecting the cheetah to her prey. For a moment, I thought the vehicles might distract her from the hunt, but if anything, they seemed to provide her with additional cover.

She took her time crossing the jeep track, but once on the other side, she had to act decisively. Like a coiled spring, she launched into her sprint. Two strides in, the gazelles had spotted her and had bolted into their own gallop. 

The hunter seemed to have the upper hand but at one point it seemed like she couldn't make up her mind between the two closest gazelles. That slight bit of indecision cost her the hunt.

Only as she made her way back did we notice how emaciated she looked, and the reason became apparent soon after. She let out a few high-pitched yelps in one direction. Moments later, a cub emerged—cautious at first but growing more confident as it spotted its mother. 

Moments later, a cub emerged—cautious at first but growing more confident as it spotted its mother. Then another appeared, followed by yet another, until five cubs were running out to greet her. 

They had a heartwarming reunion, nuzzling and caressing each other in reassurance.

With five mouths to feed there wasn't much time to waste and the mother was off again. 

I hope she found some luck later in the day, just as we had ours this morning. 

On Quitting Social Media

Back in 2008, I believed the internet would save the world. I worked at an exciting internet company (at the time) and eagerly drank the Kool-Aid, but my personal experiences also fueled my optimism. A group of friends and I had visited Nandi Hills, and, appalled by the litter, we started a campaign to clean it up. The internet connected us with diverse minds, helped us raise funds from strangers, and facilitated a surprisingly effective on-ground effort.

Around the same time, social media was beginning to capture humanity's attention. Once again, I embraced an optimistic outlook about its potential to transform our lives. A few years after our Nandi Hills cleanup, groups on Facebook (chief among them, The Ugly Indian) organized larger-scale drives across multiple locations in my city. In my own neighborhood, we organized a cleanup, and social media made it far easier to rally people.

A revolution seemed imminent. Everything was about to change: the way we met new people, stayed connected with old ones, exchanged ideas, and shared knowledge. With these tools, we believed we could question biased information, liberate our minds, topple autocracies, and give a voice to the voiceless.

Sixteen years later, I’m plotting my escape from all of them—because we missed the fine print. Facebook felt like it was helping us stay in touch, but was it really? It helped topple autocracies, but it also helped bad actors meddle in elections. Twitter was a rich source of information, but you had to wade through a sea of hostility. LinkedIn was great for professional networking, but it became a firehose of inauthenticity. WhatsApp remains the best messaging app, but it has enabled lies to spread at the speed of light. Instagram seemed like a fun space to share moments, but was it worth the constant feeling of inadequacy?

And now, as I try to quit them all, I hear that Nandi Hills is dirtier than ever.

TCS 10k - Run number 13

 

The graph of timings of my TCS 10k runs tells me I hit my peak somewhere around 2017, but after a Covid-related hiatus and an ACL tear, it's good to know the legs and the lungs still have it.