On a rainy Sunday afternoon in late August 2018, I found myself wandering the grounds of the National Centre for Biological Sciences (NCBS), where I currently live and work in Bangalore, India. I had arrived in Bangalore only a few days prior and was still acclimatizing to the campus and culture. I toured the lush fields of NCBS, admiring the diversity of flora and fauna: the bright pink bougainvillea flowers, the crimson rose butterflies that made my heart flutter, the white storks that flew in for the rain, which was yet to fall but left a heavy scent in the air. For an instant, my eyes turned to the ground, and I realized that other creatures were also preparing to revel in the rain: tiny frogs! I knelt into the grass and cupped my palms as I tried to catch a few frogs. I once had felt the heartbeat of a wild frog against my thumb and it was a beautiful sensation that I wanted to experience again. I got on all fours as my pursuit became more intense. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed someone approaching me from behind.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
I turned towards him sheepishly when I realized how ridiculous I must look while crawling through the grass.
“Um, I’m trying to catch frogs,” I admitted, a little embarrassed.
“Wow, these frogs are so tiny!” he observed.
