by Aruna Prabhu

In the midst of the clutch of buildings that make up the medical college where I have just begun my journey to understand the process of rigorous research, stand a clump of grand old trees. There is the stately ficus, the spathodia with red bells amidst dark green foliage and the big leafed almond trees and some others I don’t know yet.

I first noticed the bird orchestra in the evenings. Around 6 o’clock, just as the sky turns a dusky grey to match the dusty roads and buildings in the area, the birds start to arrive. They come in their hundreds and thousands. And as they settle on each branch, the tree comes alive with the loud, raucous bird talk. There are the shrill notes of the bulbul, the bullying tones of the mynah, the persistent cawing of the crow and maybe the chirp of the sparrow too. They carry on unmindful of the human drama unfolding right beneath the stately canopy until every bird finally finds their spot for the night. The speaking tree finally falls silent by the time darkness spreads its velvety blanket.

The morning routine is the same in the reverse order. The speaking trees come alive with the slowly brightening sky. Birds prepare for the day ahead and then launch into the new day. This is a much more brief routine.

In mid-August, the almond trees started shedding its rusty red leaves, leaving behind stark branches with almond fruits clutched tightly within its knobby branches. These trees were now struck mute as the disgruntled birds flew around in formation finding other refuge while their regular home was undergoing a renovation. I can already see the tiny sprouts on the almond trees; growing rapidly, as if in a hurry to welcome back their feathered tenants. 

24 August 2024

Yak lived in a cottage in the forest near a big lake. One day Yak went to the lake. She saw many big ripples on the surface. She shined a torch into the water. 

The ripples became bigger and a yeti jumped out. Yeti yelled, “Don’t shine the light into the water. My eyes hurt. I don’t like it.” 

Yak said, “I am sorry. I just wanted to see what was under the ripples. I did not mean to hurt you.” Yeti screamed and frightened Yak away. Yak ran as fast as she could back to her cottage.

Note by Aruna Prabhu: This is a story written by I.P, a person with autism spectrum disorder. He loves animals, especially the giraffe. This story was written by him on being given the prompt to ‘write a story about two animals.’ I was very happy to see his ability to show the irritability for sensory inputs (that he sometimes struggles with) in the dialogues he has penned. I.P is also a gifted artist and able to make illustrations to express himself.