Back in India once again, I found myself on one of my longest trips yet. We were trying to pack in a lot of work and activity, with a good dose of celebratory exploration thrown in. And it was a trip to remember in many different ways!
We landed in Delhi and retired to Bungalow 99, a small homeshare-style hotel where we’d stayed many times before. I could see a strange, shadowy effigy hanging overhead as we entered the space, but didn’t realize until the following morning that it was an Indian house crow caught up in twine, trying to free himself. We talked to the hotel manager in hopes he could help, but hours later the crow was still suspended there.
That afternoon I leaned over my balcony, examining the situation and trying to scavenge for some sort of tool that might help free him. I came up empty handed. But a woman walked past below with a poodle on a leash, taking charge as soon as she spotted the crow. She called to some men loitering nearby, cajoling them to fashion a cutting tool out of bamboo to cut him down.
It was beautiful to see this motley crew of people working together to reach and then carefully untangle the crow. The string finally cut loose, he ran into the bushes nearby, clearly determined to survive.
After a long day of work and travel we made it to my favorite hotel in Jaipur, freshening up before heading downstairs for the Jobner Bagh homestyle dinner that is always a highlight on these trips. It included fresh okra and cabbage and chicken marsala, and the cook lovingly told us the Hindi words for each of the dishes and ingredients. The food tasted even better paired with candlelight and bats and birds flying overhead, welcoming dusk.
My trips to India are always packed with activity, and I often find myself restless from a lack of downtime and solitude to recharge. Lately I’ve been trying to compensate by waking up early, trading in sleep for painting or writing or exploring (or a combination of the three).
Chatting with Baldev one day, he let it slip that there was a local sanctuary safari where you could see leopards in their natural habitats. I obviously was intrigued, and Amit immediately made arrangements for us to visit. Located at the base of the Aravalli hills, the preserve was gorgeous in the late afternoon light. We were loaded into an open-top jeep and were off, meandering our way along the twisting dirt roads in search of wildlife. The air was cool in the dense forests and open fields, and we saw Nilgai (bluebuck antelopes) first, along with many different birds ranging from Indian bluebirds to peafowl to quails and pigeons. Turning down a new path that curved around a ravine, a mongoose leapt out and darted in front of us. I was delighted.
On our way to a scenic overlook we came across a large colony of gray langurs, comical monkeys with long, winding tails. Young were running and jumping and chasing one another, with older pairs relaxing in the shade grooming. Their fur lit up in the golden light, and it was positively magical, reminding me of a Miyazaki film. I could feel the tree spirits hiding out of sight.
We stopped at an old hunting lodge at the top of a hill, taking in the panoramic views of the lush basin and surrounding mountains. The sun got lower, and finally it was time for the leopards to emerge in search of their evening meals. The driver drove more urgently now, the clock ticking. He followed an Indian cow bird who was calling in the thicket, and oh! There! Ahead a leopard strolled out into the road, sauntering along as if enjoying some leisurely exercise.
Then the hilarity began. All the jeeps in the area moved to get closer, mimicking the insane (mundane) city traffic of India. The drivers were constantly trying to pass one another, jockying for space on the narrow road while still maintaining enough distance so the large cats felt comfortable. Everyone in the cars were laughing and cheering with the energy, each of us sharing the excitement of seeing these amazing creatures in the wild.