Black ibis

Pagoda and trumpet flower.




Van Udyan Marg abuts Dongri slum in Borivili (W); a short walk from Dharma Nagar, along Yogi Nagar, crossing Eksar Road and me touches Van Udyan Marg. A thin strip of road with three parks, sharing common hedges on one side and apartments the other. A group of blessed, green citizens have set up the three parks; they are separate entities with boards requesting public not to pluck flowers; wish they could also put a second board pleading for Silence. That may not be possible as we are not a silent lot; we did not pick up the habit from our English rulers; long ago a Japanese executive, over tea, said softly to me: Sorry, I like Indians except for their noise. Me agreed. Mobiles spewing bhajans are an added nuisance. But Rama and me have got used to it. Initially, one of the parks, with a blooming laburnum opposite the gates, charged Rs.2; entry is free now for all. The park has a central ground where young kids, on vacations, practice bowls and strokes; a paunchy coach gossips. Cricket is a humming burr. Park No 1 has four Asoka trees in flowers, purple bauhinias, trumpet flowers, bottle brush; pagoda trees in fragrant whites in the centre, silk cottons, a laburnum and many others me am not sure of. We stared at them, intoned prayers. Hope they live longer than us. Pray they live forever and a magpie robin agreed with a note. And Wednesday morning walking the Park in circles, a bird came across me eye-line. It was a black ibis (Pseudibis papillosa); a stray; a surprise; maybe it flew in from Borivili National Park in Borivili (East); mostly they move in friend groups; me spotted many groups on a visit to Gir. It landed in a swampy plot near Dongri outside the Park and sank into the tall grass. Quietly. Me did not spot it again. Yet a black ibis in Borivili (W) has not happened in walking years. Rama stared at its huge curved beak. A mobile could not catch it. The bird is in us.