Eyes are Windows to the Soul

Eyes are indeed windows to the soul. Not just for humans, for all living creatures. To me, the best bird photos are those that tell me what is going on behind the eyes, in the heart.

 Some birds look fierce, like a red-tailed hawk; its eyes do not try to deceive you. They tell you that there is murder in its heart.

 But with sparrows, goldfinches and red-winged blackbirds, their gentle, defenseless look makes you keep your distance from them lest they get spooked and fly away.

A snowy egret leans in while wading in the pond ready to spear any unsuspecting fish with  its long sharp beak, the madness in its soul reflected in its pale orbs.

Then, there is that stately crane, standing cross legged like a Regency buck waiting for the coachman to bring his hat and gloves. What a pose, what a look!

The mallard duck’s mouth is perpetually tilted in a smile that is reflected in its eyes; maybe it is just grateful to be in this world, living and loving.

The tilted playful look is definitely misleading— the rose-ringed parrot is definitely calculating how much of the tamarind pods it can gorge on before retiring to its nest.

The most intriguing is the urban crow. Perched atop a palm tree, it has a quiet contemplative look taking a moment to observe the world, perhaps wondering where does it fit in this hurly burly world.

 

 

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Kerala: God’s Own Country—A Photo Journey Part 2

Dutch Palace, Mattancherry or Mattancherry Palace

Mattancherry Palace is renowned for its Kerala style murals depicting scenes from Ramayana. These murals date back to 16th century. Despite lighting challenges, I managed to capture some on my phone camera. Enjoy!

Other buildings in the Mattancherry Palace compound.

Published!

 

Two years ago, I participated in a paper weaving workshop taught by Helen Hiebert. I created the above 👆piece titled Marriage of True Minds. Helen included this artwork in her new book Weaving with Paper which came out last December. The book is a treasure trove of weaving techniques all beautifully illustrated abd a gallery of works created by very talented artists. Helen is a dedicated teacher and I greatly admire her teaching approach. I learned a lot in her workshop. I hope to take another workshop with her. 

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What is Thideer Nagar

 

Greams Road Thideer Nagar Today

As a recent transplant to Chennai, my curiosity has been aroused every time I passed this road sign 👆tucked into a little corner of Greams Road. Greams Road is a long road that begins at the intersection of Anderson bridge and College Road and ends at Anna Salai. A quarter of the road runs parellel to the Cooum River but a wall of blue screens completely block the view of the river from the road. For the rest, small businesses, eateries and banks dot both sides of the road. It even has an art gallery. (A google query “Greams Road Chennai” will bring up several videos of Greams Road at various points in time.)

Now coming to Thideer Nagar. Thideer means sudden and nagar means a town or a neighborhood or a human settlement. In the present day Greams Road Thideer Nagar one doesn’t see any sign of human settlement. Google search revealed that Chennai has a number of such thideer nagars—they are unplanned settlements formed when migrants from outside come into the city and settle on the banks of Cooum and Adyar rivers and other waterways. These are shanty towns consisting of several hundred families. Men and women worked locally and children went to neighborhood schools. Because Thideer Nagars are illegal settlements, they could be razed and families evicted without due process. That was the fate that fell upon Greams Road Thideer Nagar. Between 2015-2018, despite stiff resistance, all the families were evicted and resettled in a different location by the Greater Chennai Corporation as part of Cooum river restoration project. A number of thideer nagars by the Cooum river have suffered a similar fate. 

Eight years later, what remains of the old Thideer Nagar is a cluster of cars parked where there used to be auto mechanic shops. Based on newspaper reports, it seems that the municipal corporation has not been able to evict them because they had proper patta to their property. So, even if humans have been disappeared, Thideer Nagar still lives. 

As for Cooum river restoration, that project supposedly started sixty years ago. The river is still as dead as it had always been. Even the dead would not want to be dead there. 

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All photos by Indira Govindan. 

Kerala: God’s Own Country—A Photo Journey Part 1

Kerala is a visitor’s paradise. It has an abundance of natural beauty—rivers, beaches, mountains and trees. It is place of great religious diversity—Hindus, Muslims and Catholic and (even jews once upon a time) call it their home. It has art forms that are centuries old, both in crafts and performance arts. It is a photographer’s dream place—for a visitor there is always something to capture on camera—the birds, places of worship, public murals. During my six-day trip to Fort Kochi and the backwaters of Kerala, I kind of ran away with my camera. This first set of photos give a sampling of the different places of worship. 

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Robert Macfarlane: Is A River Alive Review

 

Robert Macfarlane is a popular nature writer who has been on the NewYork Times best seller list several times and won many prestigious awards for nature writing. I personally own The Lost Words, a book he co-authored with Jackie Morris who created absolutely beautiful illustrations for the book. Is a River Alive was published in 2025 to a generally favorable reviews. Even though I consider myself a committed enviromentalist I wasn’t planning to read this book (not enough time in the day).  But I read it because it had a section on the rivers and waterways of Chennai, the city where I presently live. I will confess that I only read the section on Chennai rivers. My town is very close to where the Cooum river flows and even when one becomes inured to its deadened state, it registers in a sad way every time I drive past it. Most regular inhabitants of Chennai feel this sense of sadness. There is a feeling of hopelessness that nature does not stand a chance against uncontrolled, unregulated industrial development and those who care about protecting the rivers and waterways are fighting a losing battle against corruption and rapacity of the political system. In a society where even certain groups of people are denied equal rights and equal protection under the law, an argument for personhood of and legal rights for rivers can seem quixotic. Macfarlane’s interlocutor in Chennai was Yuvan Aves, a 30-something naturalist and an environmental defender and, the founder of Palluyir Trust for nature education and research. As an active member of resistance and community movements against ecocide and industrial violence, he is one of many inspiring figures who keep fighting the system to prevent industrial encroachment of protected lands and to restore lost wetlands. Perhaps the most heartwarming is the story of Turtle Patrol— a group of vounteers who between January-March patrol Chennai beaches at nights to protect the Olive Ridley sea turtle nesting sites, relocate eggs to hatcheries, and assist hatchlings safely reach the sea. They have been doing this for more than three decades. Macfarlane himself is not optimistic about the survival of Chennai waterways but people like Yuvan give us hope. 

The section on Chennai makes one serious factual error that is repeated throughout—Cooum and Adyar rivers empty into the Bay of Bengal, not the Indian Ocean as the book keeps mentioning. Again, the beach where the sea turtles come to nest is located on the Bay of Bengal not the Indian Ocean.