The year was 1290 . A crowd had gathered around a clearing, where broken down pillars marked the presence of an ancient temple, now long gone. A young boy, just 14 years old, leaned against one of those pillars, deep in thought. Then, he began speaking, and the crowd fell silent, listening to his every word. He spoke without any notes, translating the Bhagavat Gita, from Sanskrit, which only the pundits knew, to the language everyone in the village knew and spoke – a variety of Prakrit which developed into the Marathi language. Even as he spoke, one of the men in the audience realized how momentous this event was, and how important this composition would be. He began writing down the words the young boy spoke, and this composition was named by its author and composer, the Bhavartha Deepika – the enlightening meaning (of the Bhagavat Gita). Now, the ancient, holy text, was no longer restricted to the pundits, but accessible to all, understood easily by them, composed as it was, in their...
I keep hearing them all the time, but have realized that they are not all that easy to spot. Some time back, a friend reported that a pair seemed to be nesting on a tree outside her house, but I was unlucky again, for whenever I went there, they didn't make an appearance. I finally managed to get a good look at the pair sometime back when, thanks to the local temple celebrations, we spent hours on our terrace, partly watching the festivities, and partly birdwatching! Here are the pics of our colony's elusive Coppersmith Barbets....
Wow! This is superb!
ReplyDeleteThey are elusive, but real pretty!
ReplyDeleteThey are elusive, but real pretty!
ReplyDelete