Muted spring

Spring has given way to summer. My mango tree, which was in flower till last month, has shed them and is loaded with tiny fruit. So have my citrus trees: lemons, oranges and grapefruit. A couple of weeks ago, I spent my mornings under a peach tree in full bloom. I sit under the same tree with clusters of unripe peaches.

The same birds visit my back garden: babblers, bulbuls, magpie, robins and, occasionally, purple sunbirds to steal the last drops of nectar from withering salvias. Kites wheel round in the blue sky. Crows, pigeons and doves fly in and out as do white and blue butterflies. Barbets have been calling to each other for over a month.

Nothing seems to have changed very much over the year except two things: I haven’t seen a sparrow in these months; they used to be everywhere, in and out of my flat. Come to think of it, any time it rained, earthworms, which supplemented sparrow diet, were littered on the lawn. We had several showers, but I did not see a single worm. And I have yet to hear the call of a koel.

In past years, I often heard them on cold winter nights. We are close to Baisakhi and not a distant note. Is it that they have decided that Delhi is no longer worth living in? I am inclined to agree with them but I continue to live in Delhi.

Their numbers have dwindled to a dangerous low and are now on the endangered list. If steps are not taken immediately to assure their survival, they may disappear forever.

Who cares? We are so obsessed with political wrangling, social scandals, murders, rapes and other human pre-occupations, it leaves us little time to ponder over the rapidly declining other forms of life, which share the Earth with us and have as much right to survive as we. All we do is pay lip service to the notion of preserving the environment and indulge in ritual planting of trees on Van Mahotsavs and feel we have done our duty. We have not.

Little or nothing is being done to restrict the reckless use of poisonous insecticides, spraying trees in flower and fruit with chemical pesticides. None of our political parties have given this the importance it deserves. If we continue to remain indifferent towards the disappearance of species, others will go the same way. Bird song will become a memory of the past, our springs will be marked by silence.

Radhika

Most of the well to do Kayastha families of Delhi have traditionally been civil servants, lawyers, doctors or in business. A few like Sheila Dhar (nee Bahadur) made their mark as singers of Hindustani classical music. The Backliwals are one of the oldest and best-known Kayastha families of the city. They branched off into dealing with antiques, Mughal, Pahari and Sikh miniature paintings, jewellery and gemstones. They own the oldest and the most frequented antique store, which their ancestors set up in 1830. They also continued the tradition of classical music. Sharan Rani won acclaim as a Sarod maestro.

My contact with Backliwals began with Radhika, daughter of Sharan Rani. We share the same birthday 70 years apart and went to the same school. She went on to Lady Shri Ram College, joined the family business and married Anurag Narain. Throughout her career, she continued practising Kathak dancing, singing and playing the sarod.

One thing I do not share with the Backliwals is their enthusiasm for the Rotary movement. The entire family are ardent Rotarians and rarely miss their weekly lunch meetings in five-star hotels; Radhika is proud of the fact that she has not missed a single meeting.

I have nothing against the Rotarians. They are drawn from the uppermost layers of society; captains of industry, toppers in their professions and also engaged in good works. They take themselves too seriously, are humourless and boring. I have addressed a few of their luncheon meetings.

Rotary is Radhika’s life and soul. She joined it as soon as she was old enough to be admitted as a member. She has held innumerable posts and was the first woman to be elected as district representative.

Her latest achievement is to be elected chairperson of YFLO (Young FICCI Ladies Organisation). She wanted me to be the chief guest at her inaugural meeting. Much as I cherish her as a surrogate grandchild, I pleaded my old age and begged to be forgiven. Radhika, yes; Rotarians, no.

The jehadis and rathyatris

The UPA government is appeasing the jehadis,
It is encouraging them to attack our country.
Therefore the attack on Varanasi,
And hence the anger of BJP.
When we were in power, the country was entirely terror-free
Only an attack on Parliament, a strike at Red Fort, a couple of blasts in Raghunath temple and a massacre at Akshardham.
How peaceful and calm!
This is because we never appeased the minorities;
We escorted the arrested jehadis out of the country
And delivered them safe to the Taliban,
Thus enhancing the stature of our foreign minister
And turning the Jaish-e-Mohammed tap on.
And now, we are undertaking rath yatras again
For the sake of national integration!
We don’t need jehadis to ruin the nation,
They haven’t one enough.
We can ourselves cause mayhem and destruction.

(Courtesy: Kuldip Salil, Delhi)

Gender awareness

A tyre is male, because it goes bald and it’s often over-inflated.
A hot air balloon is male, because to get it to go anywhere, you have to light a fire under it, and of course, there’s the hot air part.
Sponges are female, because they’re soft, squeezable and retain water.
An hourglass is female, because over time, the weight shifts to the bottom.
A remote control is female—it gives a man pleasure, he’d be lost without it, and while he doesn’t always know the right buttons to push, he keeps trying!

(Contributed by Vipin Bucksey, New Delhi)