August 22, 2021 12:07:29 pm
What could the loss of insects mean for the ecosystems that sustain us?
A few days ago, I opened a jar of honey that I hadn’t touched for months. The thick golden treacle was dotted with black spots – ants who had dropped dead after gorging on the nectar. That was something I hadn’t seen for years. It now seems long ago when a forgotten candy bar, a piece of fruit, a cube of cheese left uncovered or even a crumb of cake would draw a troop of foraging insects from nowhere. Their pheromone trails alerting more colony members who would join in the effort to break down the food item into tiny particles, which they carried back home.
When hosts turned guests at the Rashtrapati Bhavan
The first resident of the Rashtrapati Bhavan had an inauspicious beginning to his stay at the Viceroy House. On December 23, 1929, Lord Irwin was travelling by train to Delhi, when a bomb was thrown at his viceregal train. The nonchalant Irwin is said to have remarked, “I heard the noise and said to myself ‘that must be a bomb’. But as nothing happened, I went on reading Chaloner (poet and statesman Sir Thomas Chaloner).”
Though only five viceroys had the luxury of calling the Rashtrapati Bhavan their home, 14 Indian presidents thus far, have resided in this magnificent palace. However, our presidents never really stayed in the same rooms that were once occupied by the Viceroys.
What the passing of the endlings teaches us about nature
Two bullets passed through three brothers and killed them as they sat side by side.
The secretary wrote, “The first bullet killed one and… the second bullet after having gone through one struck the other, which was behind it, and killed it also.”
Maharaja Ramanuj Pratap Singh Deo pulled the trigger in 1947. In Surguja District in central India, he shot them by night from a vehicle. It was his private secretary who later chronicled the passing of the last cheetahs shot in India.
Remembering the forgotten heroes from India’s freedom struggle
Chahe jitni tarah se kahi jaye,aur jitni bar, Azadi ki kahani se kuchh chhut hi jata hai (No matter how many ways and how many times it is said, some things always remain unsaid when it comes to stories of the freedom struggle), I heard this statement from a balladeer in eastern Uttar Pradesh who used to compose songs on the heroes of freedom movement. It is true that history is the “narrative of what happened’’, but it is not fixed, it continuously evolves.
How a translator’s collective makes room for richer conversations and an inclusive way of life
Two years ago, when the 90-year-old Wisconsin-based Hindi writer and academic Usha Priyamvada was approached with the idea of getting her debut novel Pachpan Khambe Laal Deewaarein translated into English, she got anxious. She wondered if anyone would be even interested in reading the 60-year-old novel. Published in 1961, the celebrated novel is located within the boundaries of an all-women’s college in Delhi, where we meet Sushma Sharma — lecturer, warden, single, and sole provider for her large family — who’s resigned to the regimented loneliness of her life.
Why writing is a form of introspection for Sri Lankan writer Anuk Arudpragasam, whose new novel is on the Booker longlist
As in his life, the impact of Sri Lanka’s nearly three-decade-long civil war ricochets through the writings of Anuk Arudpragasam. “I wanted to write a novel about the relationship between a young man and his grandmother, but over the course of writing it, the war began entering the narrative in various ways. After a while, it became clear that this too would be a novel about the war, though one that dealt with the psychic repercussions of war rather than its immediate violence,” he says of his Booker Prize longlisted second novel, A Passage North (Penguin Hamish Hamilton, Rs 599), a meditation on absence, sorrow and the legacy of the civil war, that follows his debut work, The Story of a Brief Marriage (2016).
How does the cuteness quotient play out in the animal community?
It’s a weapon that has been used since time immemorial by nearly every animal species including us, with devastating effect. Animals have used it on their own kind — and even on us, and we fall victim to it nearly every single time. And there’s a very simple reason why — it has survival value.
It’s the terrible “cuteness” bomb, which can reduce leathery boors to warm globs of sweet goo. The moment they confront a toothless, gurgling baby, extending its chubby arms towards them, its eyes enormous, its smile innocent, the deed is done! It needn’t be a human baby — a puppy or a kitten or an orangutan, bunny or tiger cub will do just as well, though maybe the line could be drawn at naked mole rat babies! If this is the effect that the C-bomb can have on iron men, you can imagine what it does to inherently tender-hearted women? Sure there are people who cringe at the mention of the “C” word and researchers working in animal labs who try to blank out its effects by giving their subjects hard cold numbers instead of names, as they conduct some of their experiments.
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