yet again ... getting lost ... then enjoying self-discovery ...

The Weavers The curious world of insects. Geetha Iyer HarperCollins Publishers India. 2016. At Phuye ( Zunheboto, Nagaland ), with a friend, I had had honey, fresh with the honeycomb. An old uncle, smiling as he came all of a sudden, had brought it on a plate and we were left gaping. I happily recall how, once we began, we finished it no time. I was reminded of this, when in chapter 5, ‘Silk in Ants, Bees and Wasps’ the author asks, ‘ Have you ever eaten a freshly harvested honeycomb? ’ and states ‘ If you have, then surely you must have also eaten silk; if you haven’t, please try. The comb with the honey is tasty, fresh and delicious! She then adds ‘So the next time you feast on juicy honeycombs, remember that you are probably also gorging on a mixture of bee shit and bee piss ’. C A Viraktamath, in his foreword , has succinctly described the book as, ‘a wonderful treatise on all silk producing insects’ . In her introductory note the author says ‘ It’s not

There was a tree Is it a Kingfisher? Can you spot it? I catch a glimpse, movement amidst the rain washed leaves, A welcome diversion, beauty of its brown, blue and white, Perks of sitting at the balcony, at Lamakaan. Today, only a week later, I sit at the same table,  notebook - pencil in hand, Drizzle and samosas accompany the chai, But the bird has gone. Strong machines are cutting the tree, Slow cruel sounds, of technology strangling nature, A killing, of the kind we allow, or A metaphor, like the crumbling haveli in ‘In Custody’. Now in pieces, it is carried away by mortals,    The bird loses its Makaan. Images are of the tables at Lamakaan. Thanks Anuradha for the images.