Excerpt from the Million March Poem

The night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark,
And the walls have been steep.

Under a dead blue sky on a distant beach,
I was dragged by my braids just beyond your reach.
Your hands were tied, your mouth was bound,
You couldn't even call out my name.
You were helpless and so was I,
But unfortunately throughout history
You've worn a badge of shame.

...

This morning I look through your anguish
Right down to your soul.
I know that with each other we can make ourselves whole.
I look through the posture and past your disguise,
And see your love for family in your big brown eyes.


I say, the night has been long,
The wound has been deep,
The pit has been dark
And the walls have been steep.


- Maya Angelou

I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings

The free bird leaps
on the back of the win
and floats downstream
till the current ends
and dips his wings
in the orange sun rays
and dares to claim the sky.

But a bird that stalks
down his narrow cage
can seldom see through
his bars of rage
his wings are clipped and
his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing.

The caged bird sings
with fearful trill
of the things unknown
but longed for still
and is tune is heard
on the distant hillfor the caged bird
sings of freedom

The free bird thinks of another breeze
and the trade winds soft through the sighing trees
and the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawn
and he names the sky his own.

But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreams
his shadow shouts on a nightmare scream
his wings are clipped and his feet are tied
so he opens his throat to sing

The caged bird sings
with a fearful trill
of things unknown
but longed for still
and his tune is heard
on the distant hill
for the caged bird
sings of freedom.

- Maya Angelou

My discovery! Rare New Bird!!!!!

Housekeeping Idhar Aao!!!!!!!

Will try and get a clearer picture ... but this is the Coppersmith cleaning its nest ... the birds feed the young from outside first and then go in and emerge with (what is presumably)the trash.

:-) The Coppersmith Baby is Here!!!!!!

What's your name?

I don’t have a name to call you.
Just nonsense words I make up.
Am hoping one day soon
It’s a language you will want to take up.

The words are easy,
Their meaning not deep.
They describe the most mundane,
everyday things.
Like what happens
When you look at me,
Or when my name you call,
The funny way you cradle me
After every fall.
Your name is nice.
But the things I feel …
Well, it just does not sum them all.

I wonder why they called you that.
Did they think hard enough?
I want to ask your old man and woman
Couldn’t they have made something nicer up?

Like when I turn you into a sweet,
A funny bird-call …
Sometime an ice cream flavour
At other times ‘Takashimaya’, the mall.

Your name I feel should be
A thousand special things.
It should have
The throb of our heartbeats,
The sound of our laughter,
The warmth of our blanket,
The sunset turning softer.

I hope you are not upset
When I tell you …
That the name they gave
Is the one I will remember ...
When it's not love that coats my tongue,
only anger.

Oriental Magpie Robin / Dayal

The Oriental Magpie Robin (Copsychus saularis) are distinctive black and white birds with a long tail that is held upright as they forage on the ground or perch conspicuously.

Distributed in many parts of tropical South and Southeast Asia, they are common birds in urban gardens as well as forests. They are particularly well known for their songs and were once popular as cagebirds. It is mostly seen close to the ground, hopping along branches or foraging in leaf-litter on the ground with cocked tail.

Males sing loudly from the top of trees or other perch during the breeding season. Females spend more effort on feeding the young than males. Males are quite aggressive in the breeding season and will defend their territory and respond to the singing of intruders and even their reflections. Males spend more time on nest defense. Studies of the bird song show dialects with neighbours varying in their songs. The calls of many other species may be imitated as part of their song. This may indicate that birds disperse and are not philopatric. They appear to use elements of the calls of other birds in their own songs. Females may sing briefly in the presence of male. Apart from their song, they use a range of calls including territorial calls, emergence and roosting calls, threat calls, submissive calls, begging calls and distress calls. The typical mobbing calls is a harsh hissing krshhh.

The Indian name of dhyal or dhayal has led to many confusions. The food of Magpie Robins is mainly insects and other invertebrates. They are known to occasionally take geckos,leeches, centipedes and even fish.

They are often active late at dusk. They sometimes bathe in rainwater collected on the leaves of a tree.

Indian Cuckoo Male

Indian Cuckoo Female

There are many other Indian Female Cuckoos I know too ... None of them perch on trees though ...

Indian Cuckoo - Female

The Paradise Flycatcher Again

More of the Bhardwaj

The Bhardwaj sighting is considered to be luckuy in some parts of India. The bird sighting.

The Coppersmith's Latest Aggressor: The Greater Coucal / Crow Pheasant / The Bhardwaj

The Greater Coucal or Crow Pheasant (Centropus sinensis) ,also called the Bhardwaj bird in India, is a large non-parasitic member of the cuckoo order of birds, the Cuculiformes.

A widespread resident in Asia, from India, east to south China and Indonesia, it is divided into several subspecies, some being treated as full species. They are large, crow-like with a long tail and coppery brown wings and found in wide range of habitats from jungle to cultivation and urban gardens. They are weak fliers, and are often seen clambering about in vegetation or walking on the ground as they forage for insects, eggs and nestlings of other birds. They have a familiar deep resonant call which is associated with omens in many parts of its range. The eyes are ruby red. Juveniles are duller black with spots on the crown and there are whitish bars on the underside and tail. The sexes are similar in plumage but females are slightly larger.

The Greater Coucal is monogamous and their courtship displays include chases on the ground and the male bringing food gifts for the female. Nests are built mostly by the male in 3 - 8 days. A Typical clutch consists of 3-5 chalky white eggs.

The Bhardwaj sighting is considered to be lucky in some parts of India. The bird sighting.

The Two Idiots Cast In The Order of Appearance: 1) The Black Drongo 2) The Coppersmith Barbet

Be Kind

Be kind whenever possible.

And oh yes ...

It is always possible. :)

Asian Paradise Flycatcher - Female - Another Voyeur

Description

Adult Asian Paradise-flycatchers are 19–22 cm long. Their heads are glossy black with a black crown and crest, their black bill round and sturdy, their eyes black.

Female are rufous on the back with a greyish throat and underparts. Their wings are 86–92 mm long.

Male Asian Paradise-flycatchers change the colour of their plumage in the first few years of their lives. Sub-adult males look very much like females but have a black throat and blue-ringed eyes. As adult they develop up to 24 cm long tail feathers. Their rufous plumage moults into white with the central pair of tail feathers growing up to 30 cm long streamers that droop. There are adults called rufous-morph with rufous wings and tail but white underparts.



Behaviour and ecology

Asian Paradise-flycatchers are noisy birds uttering sharp skreek calls. They have short legs and sit very upright whilst perched prominently, like a shrike. They are insectivorous and hunt in flight in the understorey. In the afternoons they dive from perches to bathe in small pools of water.

The Black Drongo

Scientific name: Dicrurus macrocercus
Size: 30cms
Description: Smart and graceful glossy blue-black bird with a long forked tail. Sexes alike.
Habits: Fearless, agile and aggressive, this successful species is a feature of all our open spaces where its favoured insect food abounds. Individuals are territorial outside breeding season and have favoured perches from where they announce their presence with a medley of harsh calls mixed with skilled impersonation of calls of other species. Nests in trees which are protected from all avian intruders with zest and daring.
Habitat: Open country. Usually near habitation.
Range: Widespread resident across the country.

The Golden Oriole Male Makes An Appearance Finally!

What a beauty!

The Trial

You, me, we all do it.
We all play the slimy boss.
The cruel master to a poor slave.
We put things on a trial period.

So when a good thing comes along, we tell it
‘Listen am gonna let you happen, but you are on trial.
You goof up, then it’s done.
Your appointment will be terminated.
So go ahead and spread the joy,
but remember …
I am watching you.’

We then proceed to lie back and enjoy.
Time flies and the trial period is over.
The good thing comes up, apologetically ahems,
‘Was I good? Are you happy? Do you think you wanna keep me? Can I stay?’

That’s when we realize the power we have.
You almost laugh out loud in relief.
The good thing wants to stay?!
And here you were worried that it may want to leave?!
Now is the time to play smart.
The trick is in never letting the thing feel comfortable.
Never letting it settle or give it a place.
Oh never that! Never!

So we hem and haw.
‘Well no … you see … things were not satisfactory at all.
Pretty average!
Not special at all!
I should let you go, but what the heck! I will give you one last chance.
Now get lost.’

Mortified the good thing slinks away.
We know it’s going to try harder, the thing. It wants to stay.
What a joke!

The trial continues!

François La Rochefoucauld, Duc De

"Some counterfeits reproduce so very well the truth that it would be a flaw of judgment not to be deceived by them."

"Self-love has nowhere a greater share, nor is more predominant in any passion, than in that love; and men are always more disposed to sacrifice all the ease and comfort of them they love than to part with any degree of their own."


"We all have strength enough to bear the misfortunes of others."


"There are but very few men clever enough to know all the mischief they do. "


"Self-love is the greatest flatterer in the world."


"The accent of a man's native country remains in his mind and his heart, as it does in his speech."


"Self-love is the love of a man's own self, and of everything else for his own sake. It makes people idolaters to themselves, and tyrants to all the world besides."


"There are wicked men who would be much less dangerous if they had not some goodness."


"Silence is the best security to the man who distrusts himself."


"Tricks and treachery are the practice of fools that have not wit enough to be honest."


"When a man is in love, he doubts, very often, what he most firmly believes."


"When a man must force himself to be faithful in his love, this is hardly better than unfaithfulness."


"We confess our faults that our sincerity might repair the harm those faults themselves have done us in the esteem of others."


"We often brag that we are never bored with ourselves, and are so vain as never to think ourselves bad company."


"A man's worth has its season, like fruit."


"A respectable man may love madly, but not foolishly."


"The desire to be thought clever often prevents a man from becoming so."


"What makes us so angry with those that have tricked us, is that they think themselves cleverer than ourselves."



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"Some accidents there are in life that a little folly is necessary to help us out of."


"True bravery means doing alone that which one could do if all the world were by."


"When the soul is ruffled by the remains of one passion, it is more disposed to entertain a new one than when it is entirely cured and at rest from all."


"Absence cools moderate passions, and inflames violent ones; just as the wind blows out candles, but kindles fires."


"Innocence does not find near so much protection as guilt."


"What makes us so angry with those that have tricked us, is that they think themselves cleverer than ourselves."


"It is almost always a fault of one who loves not to realize when he ceases to be loved."


"The force we use on ourselves, to prevent ourselves from loving, is often more cruel than the severest treatment at the hands of one loved."


"In her first passions a woman loves her lover, but later she loves love itself."

Adi & Bird Potty Gyaan

Now this is brand new information related to bird potty. And something I never knew. Product of a nonsensical argument / comment from Adi - my beer brother.

Apparently many species of birds will swallow stones. These aid in digestion because they help grind items in their stomachs.

These stones are called gizzard stones or gastroliths and are usually smooth and round from the polishing action in the animal's stomach.

When too smooth to do their required work, they may be passed or regurgitated.

My advice: The next time you feel somebody has pelted one at your shiner, don't put your hand up to touch the spot. Bird pooh / puke alert ;-) yeesshhhhhh.

The Common Myna / Indian Myna

The Common Myna or Indian Myna (Acridotheres tristis) also sometimes spelled Mynah, is a member of family Sturnidae, (starlings and mynas) native to Asia. An omnivorous open woodland bird with a strong territorial instinct, the Myna has adapted extremely well to urban environments.

The calls includes croaks, squawks, chirps, clicks and whistles, and the bird often fluffs its feathers and bobs its head in singing. The Common Myna screeches warnings to its mate or other birds in cases of predators in proximity or when its about to take off flying. Common Mynas are popular as cage birds for their singing and "speaking" abilities. Before sleeping in communal roosts, mynas vocalise in unison which is called as "communal noise".

Common Mynas are believed to pair for life. They breed through much of the year depending on the location, building their nest in a hole in a tree or wall. Nesting material used by mynas include twigs, roots, tow and rubbish. Mynas have been known to use tissue paper, tin foil and sloughed off snake-skin.

The Common Myna uses the nests of woodpeckers, parakeets, etc. and easily takes to nest boxes; it has been recorded evicting the chicks of previously nesting pairs by holding them in the beak and later sometimes not even using the emptied nest boxes. This aggressive behaviour is considered to contribute to its success as an invasive species.

Like most starlings, the Common Myna is omnivorous. It feeds on insects, arachnids, crustaceans, reptiles, small mammals, seeds, grain and fruits and discarded waste from human habitation.

The Common Myna widely appears under the name saarika in Indian culture from Vedic times, featuring both in classical Indian literature (Sanskrit) as well as in Prakrit Buddhist texts. The Sankrit term shuksarika, which refers to the Rose-ringed Parakeet (shuk) and the Common Myna (saarika), is used to indicate a pair or a couple, probably because both birds are vocal and capable of mimicking human sound.
In Sanskrit literature, the Common Myna has a number of names, most are descriptive of the appearance or behaviour of the bird. In addition to saarika, the names for the Common Myna include kalahapriya, which means "one who is fond of arguments" referring to the quarrelsome nature of this bird; chitranetra, meaning "picturesque eyes"; peetanetra (one with yellow eyes) and peetapaad (one with yellow legs).

St.Andrew's Church, Bandra

God Specialises in Restoration


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Before you give up, look up

The Meaning of Life

This is something that my friend sent today morning and well ... it hits the sweet spot. :-)

Some years ago, in India, there was a famous Guru giving a talk to thousands of people. In the crowd were holy men, presidents, film stars, musicians and many, many others. Apparently when this man talked, his voice was kind of ‘hypnotic’ and people became entranced by his words.

When he had finished speaking, the Guru asked if there were any further questions. There was a silence as people absorbed what they had just heard … until a man stood up. He was a business type, a western, skeptical man and half-laughing he said to the Guru, “Alright then, if you know everything, what’s the meaning of life?”
The man was trying to embarrass the Guru, to kind of belittle him. But, the Guru answered, “I’ll answer your question, but first let me tell you something about yourself.”

Now the man was the one that everyone was looking at and became uncomfortable.
“You have never been in love, have you?? Real, deep, true Love??”

“No”, replied the man, now slightly embarrassed himself, “No, I haven’t.”

“Because…” said the Guru, “…a person who asks the question that you asked me, about the ‘meaning of life’, is really only telling you something about themselves. They have missed out on, or not experienced … love. Basically, a person who knew real Love, from their own direct, personal experience, would never even be able to ask the question, ‘What is the meaning of life’, because they would already know.”

New Frequent Flier on the Tree Outside

Pic 1 & 2 - Bird outside my window

Pic 3: Mature Bird

Pic 3: Images of The Bird - Juvenile stage & Mature
Juvenile stage is when the colour is mucky and the chest is speckled.
Mature stage is when he gets to be a bright tsriking chrome yellow
The one outside my window is not the Juvenile male that I had thought it is .. it is the female.

The Golden Oriole

The Golden Oriole or European (or Eurasian) Golden Oriole (Oriolus oriolus) is the only member of the oriole family of passerine birds breeding in northern hemisphere temperate regions. It is a summer migrant in Europe and western Asia and spends the winter season in the tropics.

Description

The male is striking in the typical oriole black and yellow plumage, but the female is a drabber green bird. Orioles are shy, and even the male is remarkably difficult to see in the dappled yellow and green leaves of the canopy.
The name "oriole" was first used in the 18th century and is an adaptation of the scientific Latin genus name, which is derived from the Classical Latin "aureolus" meaning golden.
Golden orioles are native to Europe, Asia and Africa. They inhabit tall deciduous trees in woodland, orchards or parks and spend much of their time in tree canopies.

Ecology and behaviour

They feed on insects and fruit. They build neat nests in tree forks and lay 3-6 eggs.
Their call is a screech like a jay, but the song is a beautiful fluting weela-wee-ooo or or-iii-ole, unmistakable once heard.

On life & death and the only thing in between - love

Life complements death, just like two wheels are necessary for the complete movement of a cart. Life is a process that is seen in living. We cannot attain life except by living, by flowing, or just by being alive.

Life is not a future kingdom that awaits us. It is not an enlightenment that we have to reach. It is not a dogma to incite us to move forward like a carrot placed before a donkey’s eyes.

What is Life?

Life is a process in cosmic existence that happens right here and now, at this very moment. It is present in the rhythm of your heart’s beat, in the throbbing of your veins, the current that flows in your blood, in the inhalation and exhalation of every life-giving breath.

In the fiber of every bone it is present. If you begin to search life in a future kingdom, you will miss it. Reality is here. You have forgotten it, and thus you have lost all contact with it.

You have lost communication and communion with your own reality and live in a dream-like, hallucinating world. Life is yours to search its own inner meaning through deeper awareness.

The ego
The ego is always afraid to love, because wherever there is love life seems like a wave that comes to a break, and wherever there seems to be a peak there is a break and death seems to appear. Life and death are complementary—not opposites. The ego and death are opposites.

To love one must die and be reborn, as the old self cannot love.
Only the new self can love, and to continuously love one must be born and die at every moment. It is creation and destruction at every moment, universally taking place, microscopically and macroscopically.

Life and death, after all, are complements of the same energy.

The same potency. It is not that they are opposites, as death is not the end of life, but the completion of one cycle of life. It is the end of one cycle of life, the climax of a particular lifetime.

When one fully understands the process of life, then death, its other face, is automatically understood and thereby celebrated by men of wisdom.

Because it is a unique, a major organic aspect of life, it is the friend of life, as death does not exist without life, and life does not exist without death. Death is seen as the background of life. It is the process of renewal, the recycling process.

It happens at every moment, just as life happens at every moment.

So True!

This is from a daily column my friend sends me and which I adore reading.

On this day of your life, we believe God wants you to know ...

that the way you know you have found the right one
is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with the person.

Having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words, but pouring them all right out, just as they are, chaff and grain together; certain that a faithful hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping, and then with the breath of kindness blow the rest away.

- a quote by Dinah Craik

Good deal!

To hear the exact words you said in another life to another,
Being spoken back to you.

To have all the little things you did once,
Being done for you.

To know that your smallest word, sound, action, movement
Is being recorded with loving scrutiny.

To receive without even asking.
And then to receive some more.

I know now how it must have felt to have been loved by me.
Bad business decision that! Foolish!
To ever let that go.

:-)

Two silk worms had a race.





They ended up in a tie.

"One day you will ask me which is more important?
My life or yours?
I will say mine
and you will walk away
not knowing that you are my life."


Kahlil Gibran

This One Goes Out To Me From Me

Opportunity
by Berton Braley

With doubt and dismay you are smitten
You think there's no chance for you, son?
Why, the best books haven't been written
The best race hasn't been run,
The best score hasn't been made yet,
The best song hasn't been sung,
The best tune hasn't been played yet,
Cheer up, for the world is young!

No chance? Why the world is just eager
For things that you ought to create
Its store of true wealth is still meagre
Its needs are incessant and great,
It yearns for more power and beauty
More laughter and love and romance,
More loyalty, labor and duty,
No chance--why there's nothing but chance!

For the best verse hasn't been rhymed yet,
The best house hasn't been planned,
The highest peak hasn't been climbed yet,
The mightiest rivers aren't spanned,
Don't worry and fret, faint hearted,
The chances have just begun,
For the Best jobs haven't been started,
The Best work hasn't been done.

The Opportunity

Forty springs back, I recall,
We met at this phase of the Maytime:
We might have clung close through all,
But we parted when died that daytime.

We parted with smallest regret;
Perhaps should have cared but slightly,
Just then, if we never had met:
Strange, strange that we lived so lightly!

Had we mused a little space
At that critical date in the Maytime,
One life had been ours, one place,
Perhaps, till our long cold daytime.

- This is a bitter thing
For thee, O man: what ails it?
The tide of chance may bring
Its offer; but nought avails it!

- Thomas Hardy

Courtesy - Friend & Armchair Philosopher: The one and only Shaif

It is not what it should have been.
It is not what it could have been.
It is what it is.

Defy Gravity

Up and Down!

Checking from every angle!

Enough Stretching! Back to work!

One look here!

One look there!

Am I doing it right?

Mr Coppersmith at work

The more things change ... the more they remain the same I guess!

Epitaph for a Jar of Honey

There was a man living a life
content and ordinary.
One day to his surprise
he received a jar full of magic honey.

A label on it simply said,
‘You are blessed with magic today.
To keep it sweet and unending
Just send some honey regularly its way’.

Now he was an ordinary man.
He did not believe in luck.
And like any ordinary person would,
he regarded the gift with mistrust.

At first taste, he loved it.
He dug in for some more.
The yielding jar joyously poured
Honey from its store.

The man enjoyed the honey to the bottom of his heart
but soon gave in to misgivings and serious doubt.

"How could I be so lucky?
The honey must be drugged.
It will make me behave wonky,
I'll look like a lovestruck schmuck.
Why is it pouring out so willingly?!
It must be a ruse.
So much honey
is surely more than I deserve."

The honey jar was sad,
didn’t know what to say.
It hurt to know that he thought of its giving
in such s belittling way.

So the jar did the only thing it could
to calm the man.
And stopped the honey from flowing
Faster than he could understand.

The sweetness getting lesser did not seem to help.
The man just went out of control and he yelled and yelled.
"Take off, get lost, I don’t want you honey
you won’t get my words, my heart or my money."

The honey jar was puzzled.
And worried for its life.
All it needed to keep going,
was a little honey to survive.

But the man did want the honey you see.
He really did not want to give the jar up.
He wanted to keep yielding its sweetness
Without the honey giving it involved.

Now every time the jar poured,
The flow stemmed and dried.
With no honey coming its way
The sweetness slowly died.

The man he got sadder,
But did not show what he felt.
Rigid to the end,
No honey he did send.

Exorcism At Midnight

Another night of ghosts.
The lovers.
They follow me everywhere.

Downed Asahis
and just across from where I sat
I watched the ghosts of two lovers in a car
demand each other from the universe.

Played Uno.
The ghost wanted to play with me.
I was crying inside you see.
And he knows just how to change my mood.

Was offered the wheel of an automatic.
Challenged to a drive.
And suddenly it wasn't last night.
It was another night. Another car. Another me. Another him.
It was the ghost telling me to take the wheel.

I drove ... sweetly ... all over my city.
It took just half a minute to pick up automatic driving again.
The windows were down.
The leather smelled good.
Music I liked on the stereo. For me.
I drove well.
The way the ghost likes me to.

Was shown my city at night.
Treated to a stunning view of lights.
Raced a couple of cars.
Watched the ships and boats anchored off coast.
Heard the waves lap.
Drove everywhere.
In one of those buildings my ghost half is asleep.
Is asleep. Is asleep.

He sleeps my sleep.
I sleep not a wink.
The exorcism failed. Yet again.

Groucho Mood

I find television very educating. Every time somebody turns on the set, I go into the other room and read a book.



I could dance with you until the cows come home. On second thought I'd rather dance with the cows until you come home.


Those are my principles, and if you don't like them... well, I have others.


I've had a perfectly wonderful evening. But this wasn't it.


:-) Priceless!!!!!

The Tyrant Squirrel! Just after getting a whack from the Coppersmith!

Ms. Narcissus! Loves watching itself in the one way window glass!

Winter Trainee Anybody?!

Morning Sun Bather! :-) What Colours!

It was fascinating to see him make this hole in the trunk. So neat. So well-crafted.