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.