There is this thing about the month of February. It has always felt like a misfit in an otherwise harmonious scheme of things. Like missing a beat but not knowing why.
This feeling is not about the lesser number of days that February has — the idea of calendars itself has been pretty fluid across human civilizations. I feel it is more about the timing of it all. While still in February, winter as we know is waning out but is not completely out yet, spring is visible on the horizon but not there yet. In comparatively ancient times, when the vagaries of climate change had not yet been manifested upon itself by humanity, this was the time of year that was filled with celebrations — the turning of the season, from the life threatening harsh winters to the hope filled spring.
Februum (latin)— the time of purification.
No wonder then that the modern day “St. Valentine’s Day” celebration draws from the festival of Lupercalia celebrated to mark the advent of fertility in ancient Rome.
Point being, there is this feeling about February, much like love, that I had never been able to come to terms with. Determined to find what beat I was missing without knowing why, down the proverbial rabbit hole I went looking for answers — for the Love of it All 💗
I quickly discovered that the ancient Greeks (brilliant chaps that they were) had already made my life easier by naming different flavors of love. All I had to do then, was bring in my birding experiences and align it all!
Come along then, join me on this — well… lovey-dovey trail.
First up, Eros — named so after a healthy looking male Greek god who was often depicted as a handsome youth with wings, carrying a bow and arrows that could cause people to fall in love. Plagiarism much, eh Cupid? This flavor of love is that of poignant passion, deep desire and alluring attraction.
The very base of — erotic.
The flavor of love that lights up the night.
The one that makes even healing, hurt.
Earlier this month, a remote village in the Konkan region of western India is where I experienced this exact flavor of my birding love. While the rest of India has been urbanizing at an unsettling pace, Konkan is like a railway station where this rattling train of development passed without a stopover. As you cross over the treacherous ghats of the scenic Sahyadri mountains, first the cellular phone network gives up on you. Next, the general lack of artificial lightening hits home. Post sunset, darkness is not optional here, it is the natural state of being. It doesn’t merely engulf you, it hugs you like a long lost friend and promises ever to leave you again. It was in this darkness that we chanced upon these sightings.
Eros demands that you stay away from your moral compass as if it never existed. Much like we did as our field guide continued to use a high beam flashlight in the dead of the night to track calls of these “dusky” beauties.
Let me not cloud your imagination of the pristine beauty that the Konkan region offers to the uninitiated. While in the dark, its a game of hide and seek for the senses, come first light and the place is nothing short of tranquility.
Eros for the eyes.
On the other hand, a remarkable lack of unfetteredness is what separates Eros from Philia — platonic love. Platonic is the kind of love that I experience during my birding trips to Navi Mumbai. It is strong and intense, not an iota of doubt about that, but it knows where the lines are and toes them zealously.
Having done my bit for the Great Backyard Bird Count last year in my home town of Pune, this year we planned on making Navi Mumbai count. Between February 16 to 19, we undertook multiple trails to the mudflats, grasslands and whatever remains of the forests of the city to document 100+ bird sightings (more in this Twitter thread).
Moral compass in tow, not a call was played back, not a minute spent in a hide and not an ounce of extra light shone, no matter the time of the day or the level of fatigue setting in after hours in the unforgiving sun.
Platonic indeed.
It has been a rather late realization for me that love, much like other emotions does not reside merely at extremes. It occupies a wide spectrum that also includes Xenia — the love for guests. Xenia makes us extend warmth and care to those visiting us even if it comes at the cost of hardships for our own self. It took a recent trip to the village of Kumbhargaon near the world renowned birding hotspot — Bhigwan to experience this flavor of love in its entirety. Having sat down to give a patient ear to the life stories of the birding guides there, I couldn’t help but realize that buried under the oft repeated narrative of “commercialization” of birding is the intricate intertwining of livelihoods.
An unspoken expression of aspirations and empowerment. Of fulfilling promises and nurturing dreams that are cross generational. It is so easy for us arriving in our swanky SUVs to chase that one sighting of a vulnerable raptor and miserably fail to see the layered repercussions of our adamancy. Yet the love of the locals is unwavering, maybe fueled by the continued access to material gains or the insecurity of what lies in the absence of it.
Strange thing this, love.
Closer to home is where I experience Storge — love that is offered as an instinct. Not a reaction to affection, but the first action itself. Long hours of birding trails at the ARAI hillock have always made me feel storgic love. It is different from Eros by the fact that I never had to seek it.
I only had to show up.
And I first felt it the very instant when I showed up after a decade of been away from this place till the year before last. It was as if a mother was waiting with open arms to welcome her child. Even today whenever I head out for a birding trail there, I always feel welcome. What pains me though is the fact that I have been a spoilt brat and kept this mother waiting for so many years.
Maybe that’s why I always receive more than what I give here. Always.
But the question that bothered me most and maybe it is bothering you as well is how could I find instinctual love away from home? Isn’t motherly love experienced first at home?
The probable reason for this is the presence of another layer to this multidimensional emotion and that is Agape — unconditional love.
Not an action, not a reaction. Love that transcends circumstance and persists regardless of them.
Birding in my home patch has always given me this feeling. I never needed any equipment to bird here. This is the place where I can stand and stare. And it never disappoints. Maybe a part of this is because there are no expectations to begin with. And while I have had my fair share of lifers, even sighting a House Sparrow here still brings the same joy that seeing a new winter migrant would.
Altruism the closest is modern day equivalent of this experience — something we keep experiencing less of with every passing day.
Birding in general has been responsible for me to discover Philautia — self love. Not to be confused with the one that borders on narcissism, this flavor is infact a necessary aspect of mental and physical well-being. An unbalanced me would never be able to do justice to any other form of love to offer or accept and it is this self-awareness that returning to birding has brought about over the past couple of years for me.
This in turn has helped me process other forms of love with a (dare I say) heightened sense of understanding. While seeking therapy had been a prerequisite for this realization to make its way home, the follow up effect has been calming in ways I had never experienced before.
As we near the close of this lovey-dovey trail, let me play the devil’s advocate now and tell you about the kind of love that I would rather not want experience, whilst birding or otherwise. Its called Mania — the obsessed flavor of love. The fact that it is a base word after which a mental disorder is named should speak volumes about not wanting to go down this road. Mania is often expressed as a means of rescue, or even as reinforcement of value. It appears more like a forced experience than something one would willingly embrace. Ironically, it dwells notoriously closer to our homes in the guise of what goes around with its head held high— patriarchy.
It is quite possible that as I soak in more from my birding and life experiences, I will discover more forms off or alter my perception of what I understand about love, thus far. At this age and time, I realize that the journey itself is the destination and I could not be happier to have you be a part of it by showing your affection for my writing.
Can only wish for this bond to get stronger with time…💗
Do leave a 👏 if this resonated with your life experiences as well and more so a leave comment 💬 if there is something you’d like to share from your own experiences.
PS: eBird trip reports from Owlsome Konkan, #GBBC and ARAI trails.
