Neha Sinha

Jan 18, 2025 | livemint.com | Neha Sinha

As I watch the flycatcher, I also hear squeaks from the trees, high and insect-like. The narrow leaves of a jamun tree move, and I am able to see a round, greenish-brown body hurtling through the leaves, jumping from branch to branch with a feeling of urgency. Small birds have a speed that seems to say they don’t have much time; they must barrel through a world bristling with threats. The bird is a Hume’s warbler, migrating from Central Asia ranges even beyond the Himalaya.

Jan 18, 2025 | flipboard.com | Neha Sinha

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Dec 21, 2024 | newindianexpress.com | Neha Sinha

The rhododendron stretched its arms, its boughs heavy with leaves. At its base, shrubs pushed forward. It was a massive tree, at the crest of a hill, looking like a chandelier in its complexity. At a certain age, things in the natural world start looking a little different. A mature, windswept oak begins to look like a mountain—its trunk whorled with lichen, matted with moss, and transcribed with insects and experience, like a slope with a cave painting.

Nov 22, 2024 | htsyndication.com | Neha Sinha

New Delhi, Nov. 23 -- The fog was burning off the top of the trees as the sun rose in Corbett Tiger Reserve. In front of us lay one of the most exciting things in the world: a path winding through the forest in soft light. We were in elephant country, and we kept the pace of our vehicle slow and measured, a way to ensure we didn't surprise any animals. As we edged forward, a series of sounds broke through the bushes. Little snorts-the expressive expelling of air through long noses.

Nov 16, 2024 | newindianexpress.com | Neha Sinha

Through the swathe of smog, I was looking for life. Like a cement block, a pall of pollution has descended over many cities in India, unmoving. It shouldn’t be surprising—each year before winter, the air becomes poisonous. We are living through so much environmental degradation that talking about it seems to be fatalistic, and ignoring it seems foolish. The word ‘solastalgia’ signifies a homesickness for the lost environment or landscape we loved.