The monsoon had begun; it had rained incessantly since morning.

I saw him standing there, on top of a boulder surrounded by sheep, grazing in agricultural fallow, off the Mumbai-Ahmedabad highway.

He was tall and lean, his well-built frame swathed in kurta and dhoti, the plain white of his attire offset by a dark brown shawl on his shoulder and a bright yellow turban—a long cotton cloth wrapped so many times around his head that it looked like a bird’s nest.

What caught my attention was his stance: one leg planted firmly on the boulder; the other bent with the sole planted just below his knee to form a triangle. For balance, he leaned on a stout staff.

Birdwatchers are familiar with that one-legged pose, particularly among resting water-birds who use it to relax the muscles of the folded leg and also to minimize loss of body heat and moisture.

It is equally characteristic of the Masai of Africa—in fact, the pose is so typical of the tribe that it features prominently in visuals advertising African safari holidays.

The similarity intrigued me. What did this man, in the middle of open fields in western Maharashtra, have in common with the Masai? Did he share just the pose, or were there other similarities in lifestyle, in his relationship with wildlife and with the grasslands that nurtured it?