How Green is My City: The other Delhi, of lush foliage and birdcalls

Most of us have no time to stand and stare, but Sharma certainly has (and sometimes gets into trouble for doings so), and is immeasurably the richer for it. For there, in the great outdoors (and sometimes indoors), a whole world is living life according to its own terms — governed by the seasons. The great trees go into “retreat” in winter, preparing for spring parties; migratory waterfowl and passerines arrive from afar for well deserved R&R; annuals bloom in parks and gardens; and insects bide their time.

The brief spring sees insects, birds and trees burst into frantic life: the birds sing and court, insects hum over flowering trees, and gardens and parks are crammed with people making the most of the delicious weather. For all too soon, the blowtorch summer is upon us, driving us indoors, shrivelling and searing whatever it touches.

The calls of the pied cuckoo herald the monsoon — though frankly, in Delhi, there’s often more humidity than actual rain. Insects flourish and baby birds get fat on them, as the city dons a fresh cloak in a hundred shades of emerald. And then, the rains withdraw, and after a brief autumn, it’s back to the chilly days of winter.

We meet all kinds of fauna and flora; great old hallmark trees; animals like squirrels, cats, mongooses (no leopards, hyenas or jackals!), monkeys, birds of enormous variety — resident, non-resident and those passing through – as well as reptiles and insects.

There are a few minor hiccups with nomenclature at places; the Golden Backed Woodpecker is now the Black Rumped Flameback, not the Flamebacked Woodpecker, but these should only bother nitpickers.

There is a pastel quality about the writing and a benignity with which Sharma tolerates the idiotic, often belligerent attitude of Delhiites towards anyone who meanders around looking at birds and trees. It can make you bristle, but leaves her philosophical!

Passages from some classical (and favourite) nature writers are included: Kenneth Grahame (Wind in the Willows), Kalidas, Kipling (The Jungle Book), Corbett (My India), and Tagore (Gitanjali) to name a few. Useful seasonal lists of animals and birds are provided at the end.

If you’ve had a raucous day in the city and need some natural balm, this is the book for you. And, hopefully, the next time you step out, you’ll see just how beautiful the neem tree outside your house is before picking another fight over parking.