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Wild Capital: Discovering Nature in Delhi
When is the last time you ran your hands through the tumult of wild grass flowers? Or stopped to watch a firefly? In a warming, hostile world, how do we find purpose? Perhaps we can start with noticing the bird outside one's window?
In her new book, Wild Capital, acclaimed nature writer Neha Sinha takes us on an unforgettable journey through the hidden wildernesses of the bustling metropolis of Delhi, where she finds wild creatures, ecological histories and a deep sense of meaning that bind us to the places we call our own. Exploring the city over many days and nights, Neha traces memories and the stories of extraordinary human lives, discovering centuries-old groves of trees and neglected rivers, mammal tracks and bird calls, words forgotten and then re-found.
The result is a deeply personal yet universal book which reveals how we can find our place in the world through the exploration of natural places-and presents a manifesto of hope through the rediscovery of nature.
In her new book, Wild Capital, acclaimed nature writer Neha Sinha takes us on an unforgettable journey through the hidden wildernesses of the bustling metropolis of Delhi, where she finds wild creatures, ecological histories and a deep sense of meaning that bind us to the places we call our own. Exploring the city over many days and nights, Neha traces memories and the stories of extraordinary human lives, discovering centuries-old groves of trees and neglected rivers, mammal tracks and bird calls, words forgotten and then re-found.
The result is a deeply personal yet universal book which reveals how we can find our place in the world through the exploration of natural places-and presents a manifesto of hope through the rediscovery of nature.
368 pages, Kindle Edition
Published February 8, 2026
About the author
Neha Sinha
15 books7 followersNeha Sinha is an award-winning conservation biologist, author and columnist. Wild and Wilful, (HarperCollinsIndia, February 2021) is her first book, and tells the stories of fifteen iconic Indian species.
Neha lives in Delhi, India and is partial to common birds which are considered ugly.
Neha lives in Delhi, India and is partial to common birds which are considered ugly.
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Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
March 5, 2026
Through the course of her book Wild Capital, Neha Sinha takes us down different paths vis-à-vis nature in Delhi. There are memories of her childhood, the garden of her home and the animals and birds and plants she first met there (as also a friend who snagged her some jungle jalebi). As the book proceeds, we encounter other people, other spaces, other species, other times. There’s Covid, and the enforced isolation of being home, looking out through a window at birds in the trees. There’s a parent’s illness, and Sinha’s own, both played out against the sense of nature right outside the hospital room window, with a semal (red silk cotton) tree providing comfort, inspiration, hope.
There are wanderings through Delhi in search of elusive (and not-so-elusive) species. Encounters with fireflies and jackals at night. With a woman in a far-flung ‘green area’ who couldn’t fathom why anybody would come so far just to see trees. With suspicious security guards, men who instinctively dismiss a woman walking into spaces a woman ‘isn’t supposed to go’.
I loved the careful balance that is maintained throughout this book. Between a very personal relationship with nature on the one hand (the affection, the thoughtfulness with which Sinha describes how a semal or a coppersmith barbet or fireflies affect her)—and a competent naturalist’s level-headed look at her field of study. Between the past (Najafgarh Jheel, once teeming with literally thousands of birds) and the present. Between what could be, and what is.
Between nature on the one hand, and Homo sapiens on the other. Not just in the way we humans tend to disregard/exploit/destroy nature, but also how nature is different from us. How we put up barriers, how we discriminate and abuse our own kind (let alone other species), whereas nature is more inclusive, more tolerant of differences
This is, ultimately, a book for all shades of nature-lovers, including potential ones. There is no overload of information (though there is, paradoxically enough, quite a bit of knowledge embedded in these pages). There is no pushing, no strident calls for action.
What it is, instead, is a gentle, lyrical paean to nature, and to what Delhi hides, often in full view. A wonderful book, quietly inspirational. Every now and then, in the days I read this, I was seized with a sudden urge to rush off to Aravali Biodiversity Park or Mangar Bani, or wherever. I wanted desperately to see (and hear!) jackals for myself, to gawp at a jaal tree, to watch fireflies on a monsoon night…
Very highly recommended.
And yes: a word of praise for the lovely illustrations and photographs in the book. Gorgeous.
There are wanderings through Delhi in search of elusive (and not-so-elusive) species. Encounters with fireflies and jackals at night. With a woman in a far-flung ‘green area’ who couldn’t fathom why anybody would come so far just to see trees. With suspicious security guards, men who instinctively dismiss a woman walking into spaces a woman ‘isn’t supposed to go’.
I loved the careful balance that is maintained throughout this book. Between a very personal relationship with nature on the one hand (the affection, the thoughtfulness with which Sinha describes how a semal or a coppersmith barbet or fireflies affect her)—and a competent naturalist’s level-headed look at her field of study. Between the past (Najafgarh Jheel, once teeming with literally thousands of birds) and the present. Between what could be, and what is.
Between nature on the one hand, and Homo sapiens on the other. Not just in the way we humans tend to disregard/exploit/destroy nature, but also how nature is different from us. How we put up barriers, how we discriminate and abuse our own kind (let alone other species), whereas nature is more inclusive, more tolerant of differences
This is, ultimately, a book for all shades of nature-lovers, including potential ones. There is no overload of information (though there is, paradoxically enough, quite a bit of knowledge embedded in these pages). There is no pushing, no strident calls for action.
What it is, instead, is a gentle, lyrical paean to nature, and to what Delhi hides, often in full view. A wonderful book, quietly inspirational. Every now and then, in the days I read this, I was seized with a sudden urge to rush off to Aravali Biodiversity Park or Mangar Bani, or wherever. I wanted desperately to see (and hear!) jackals for myself, to gawp at a jaal tree, to watch fireflies on a monsoon night…
Very highly recommended.
And yes: a word of praise for the lovely illustrations and photographs in the book. Gorgeous.
June 24, 2026
If the trees and birds of Delhi could write their memoirs, somewhere in those pages they would mention Neha Sinha as a curious human who looks at them intently, silently, with the kind of patience that has almost gone extinct in this city. They would write about her eyes. Eyes that do not lie about what Delhi has lost in the last few decades: the flora, the fauna, the wildness that once lived alongside us before we paved roads and metro pillars over them in the name of development. And in the same memoir, they would also write that not everything is lost. That there is still hope, because humans like Neha exist, and her friends Vallari, Pankaj, Sohail, Pradip exist. Because they care to notice and write it down.
Wild Capital: Discovering Nature in Delhi is exactly this: an ode to the Delhi we lost without ever realising we were losing it.
I was born and raised in Delhi in the 90’s. I can still probably recite every metro route by heart, every interchange, every line colour. But as the city stretched itself into the sprawl of the NCR, my knowledge of it, the actual, living throbs of Delhi shrank. I don’t know when I lost my ability to pay attention to trees because I clearly remember I had it.
Now, I have no idea what the Central Ridge is. I have never heard of Mangar Bani, the Sahibi river, or even Sanjay Van. I learned of them for the first time inside this book, which is shameful of how thoroughly we have urbanised ourselves out of knowing our own home.
Neha’s stories and field notes move through the book the way she moves through the forests she writes about. She is unhurried, attentive, and visits the same spots to see what has changed and what, miraculously, hasn't. Personal anecdote sits beside ecological facts. She writes about invasive species quietly strangling native ecosystems, about why planting a forest is not the same as restoring the forest, about the slow, deliberate work of bringing back what belongs here. At times it feels like she is writing only for herself. But really, she is writing for every bird and animal she has ever locked eyes with: at the crack of dawn in Sanjay Van or at dusk at Deer park in Hauz Khas.
More than anything, this book is an ode to Delhiites, to all of us caught in the daily chaos of the capital, trying to make a life here, and in the process, slowly forgetting to leave room for any life that isn’t ours. Reading it felt less like learning new facts about my own city and more like being handed back something I didn’t know I had misplaced.
I hope this book finds its way to people who have never thought to look twice at a tree on their street, or a bird in their balcony. I hope it becomes a portal into a Delhi that is still here, still breathing, still wild in the corners, if only we remember to look. Even if that looking begins, for most of us, from behind a window.
Wild Capital: Discovering Nature in Delhi is exactly this: an ode to the Delhi we lost without ever realising we were losing it.
I was born and raised in Delhi in the 90’s. I can still probably recite every metro route by heart, every interchange, every line colour. But as the city stretched itself into the sprawl of the NCR, my knowledge of it, the actual, living throbs of Delhi shrank. I don’t know when I lost my ability to pay attention to trees because I clearly remember I had it.
Now, I have no idea what the Central Ridge is. I have never heard of Mangar Bani, the Sahibi river, or even Sanjay Van. I learned of them for the first time inside this book, which is shameful of how thoroughly we have urbanised ourselves out of knowing our own home.
Neha’s stories and field notes move through the book the way she moves through the forests she writes about. She is unhurried, attentive, and visits the same spots to see what has changed and what, miraculously, hasn't. Personal anecdote sits beside ecological facts. She writes about invasive species quietly strangling native ecosystems, about why planting a forest is not the same as restoring the forest, about the slow, deliberate work of bringing back what belongs here. At times it feels like she is writing only for herself. But really, she is writing for every bird and animal she has ever locked eyes with: at the crack of dawn in Sanjay Van or at dusk at Deer park in Hauz Khas.
More than anything, this book is an ode to Delhiites, to all of us caught in the daily chaos of the capital, trying to make a life here, and in the process, slowly forgetting to leave room for any life that isn’t ours. Reading it felt less like learning new facts about my own city and more like being handed back something I didn’t know I had misplaced.
I hope this book finds its way to people who have never thought to look twice at a tree on their street, or a bird in their balcony. I hope it becomes a portal into a Delhi that is still here, still breathing, still wild in the corners, if only we remember to look. Even if that looking begins, for most of us, from behind a window.
June 23, 2026
Wild Capital by Neha Sinha has my WHOLE HEART.
At first glance, it might seem like a book about trees. It is. But it's also about birds, insects, animals, cities, memory, belonging, and the quiet wonders hiding in plain sight. It's about discovering nature in a city we think we already know.
Neha Sinha writes with so much curiosity and affection that every page feels alive. A tree is never just a tree. A sparrow is never just a sparrow. Even the smallest insect gets the attention it deserves. By the time I finished reading, I found myself looking at the world a little differently.
For biologists, birdwatchers, naturalists, or simply paying closer attention to the world around them, this book is a treasure. Actually, "treasure" feels inadequate. It's a gift. The kind of book you want to press into someone's hands and say, "Please read this."
One passage completely broke my heart.
The story of a 300-year-old tree being cut down.
Three hundred years. Think about that for a second.That tree had witnessed generations come and go. It had survived changing seasons, changing cities, and changing lives. Reading about its loss didn't feel like reading a statistic. It felt personal. Like losing a living piece of history.
The book also reminded me we notice flowers because they're at eye level or beneath our feet. But look up. There are old trees standing quietly above us, some of them older than our grandparents, asking for nothing more than a moment of attention.
And then there are the birds.
Before reading this book, many of their names meant very little to me. Coots. Raptors. Cranes. Eagles. Siberian stonechats. White wagtails. House sparrows. Migratory birds travelling distances I can barely comprehend. Now I watch birds whenever I get the chance.
It teaches you that nature isn't somewhere far away waiting to be visited. It's already here. In our cities. Outside our windows. Above our heads. Hidden in corners we rush past every day.
The book asks us to slow down. To look up. To pay attention. AND ONCE YOU START NOTICING, IT'S SURPRISINGLY HARD TO STOP.
June 4, 2026
A beautiful book, inside out. I started reading it thinking only about wilderness but I was astonished to discover a deeper meaning to its title. It's not only about the wilderness found in our capital city but the whole city personified into a ruthless but at the same time magnanimous entity, living and breathing with the life it holds. The anecdotes and experiences mentioned on account of the personal field endeavors of the author adds a striking edge to the rhythm of reading. The writing style is lyrical and poetic which kept me engrossed till the end. One of the rare and precious books on wildlife I cherished reading so much.
July 2, 2026
LOVELY read. i especially love that she writes so explicitly about what it's like to be a woman in the field, a woman in delhi, and that unique experience/horror of wanting to venture out into the world and being held back from it in so many ways. the writing made me want to gather up the earth in my hands and lie on the ground and wait for the birds to come.
March 21, 2026
I took a lot of breaks while reading this book, googled names of trees and birds. Sat in my balcony, watched the occasional visitors in the neighbourhood.
One of the books that will remain very close to my heart. A book that has taught me to pause and look around.
One of the books that will remain very close to my heart. A book that has taught me to pause and look around.
April 23, 2026
Delhi, as a city, never fails to fascinate me. Sure, it has its own problems, and the people are rough most of the time, but in all the chaos, if you stop for a minute and look around, you’ll find yourself standing next to a beautiful tree or hear the faint call of a grey hornbill or come across a monument hidden away in the bylanes of a colony.
This side of Delhi, where history and nature come together seamlessly, is what makes me fall in love with the city, and this is what I want everyone to see.
When I learnt about Neha Sinha’s latest book, Wild Capital, I was genuinely excited. I have been following Neha’s work for a while and have learnt a lot through my interactions with her. I picked up a copy of Wild Capital as soon as the book hit the bookstores in Delhi and started reading it the same day, putting aside all the other books I was reading at the time.
Through Wild Capital, Neha takes you on a journey across Delhi to find these spaces where nature thrives. It’s a well-researched book that takes you across centuries-old groves of trees, neglected rivers and creatures that you never thought existed in this urban sprawl. It encourages you to take a break from the fast-paced lifestyle, look beyond our concrete spaces and appreciate the little things nature offers us.
As a 3rd-generation Delhiite, I found parts of the book extremely relatable. Having grown up in the capital, I came across a few similarities in how both Neha and I learnt about certain things as kids. The most prominent one being how the silk cotton was introduced as Buddhia Ke Baal by our mothers when we were in school.
Another chapter discusses the Jaal trees in Mitraon, a village near Delhi’s Najafgarh area, which are hundreds of years old and hold a certain heritage related to them. There is also the Najafgarh lake, which is fed by the Sahibi river, sadly known as the Najafgarh drain now, and it is still an important ecological site.
What makes Wild Capital distinctive is that it goes beyond the author’s personal memory and allows the city to speak through its people. It introduces readers to Vallari Sheel, an urban ecologist who found her voice while researching Delhi’s trees; Colonel Pankaj Sharma, who turned to birdwatching in Delhi after the Kargil war; and Sunil Harsana, who champions the cause of Mangar Bani, a sacred grove near the Delhi-Haryana border.
Reading their stories helps you to see Delhi’s landscape from a different perspective. It is also a way to develop your own views on the natural and environmental aspects of the city as a reader.
If you feel adventurous, you can carry this book with you and trace your way along all the places Neha has mentioned, and rediscover the metropolis. Something I found absolutely fascinating is the existence of fireflies in Delhi. I had no idea these existed in the capital till I read this book, and have now made it a bucket list item to go and experience the phenomenon of fireflies myself.
Perhaps the greatest gift of Wild Capital is this: it teaches you to pause. To look up at a tree you’ve passed a hundred times. To listen for a birdcall in the middle of traffic. And to realise that Delhi has always been wilder than we give it credit for.
This side of Delhi, where history and nature come together seamlessly, is what makes me fall in love with the city, and this is what I want everyone to see.
When I learnt about Neha Sinha’s latest book, Wild Capital, I was genuinely excited. I have been following Neha’s work for a while and have learnt a lot through my interactions with her. I picked up a copy of Wild Capital as soon as the book hit the bookstores in Delhi and started reading it the same day, putting aside all the other books I was reading at the time.
Through Wild Capital, Neha takes you on a journey across Delhi to find these spaces where nature thrives. It’s a well-researched book that takes you across centuries-old groves of trees, neglected rivers and creatures that you never thought existed in this urban sprawl. It encourages you to take a break from the fast-paced lifestyle, look beyond our concrete spaces and appreciate the little things nature offers us.
As a 3rd-generation Delhiite, I found parts of the book extremely relatable. Having grown up in the capital, I came across a few similarities in how both Neha and I learnt about certain things as kids. The most prominent one being how the silk cotton was introduced as Buddhia Ke Baal by our mothers when we were in school.
Another chapter discusses the Jaal trees in Mitraon, a village near Delhi’s Najafgarh area, which are hundreds of years old and hold a certain heritage related to them. There is also the Najafgarh lake, which is fed by the Sahibi river, sadly known as the Najafgarh drain now, and it is still an important ecological site.
What makes Wild Capital distinctive is that it goes beyond the author’s personal memory and allows the city to speak through its people. It introduces readers to Vallari Sheel, an urban ecologist who found her voice while researching Delhi’s trees; Colonel Pankaj Sharma, who turned to birdwatching in Delhi after the Kargil war; and Sunil Harsana, who champions the cause of Mangar Bani, a sacred grove near the Delhi-Haryana border.
Reading their stories helps you to see Delhi’s landscape from a different perspective. It is also a way to develop your own views on the natural and environmental aspects of the city as a reader.
If you feel adventurous, you can carry this book with you and trace your way along all the places Neha has mentioned, and rediscover the metropolis. Something I found absolutely fascinating is the existence of fireflies in Delhi. I had no idea these existed in the capital till I read this book, and have now made it a bucket list item to go and experience the phenomenon of fireflies myself.
Perhaps the greatest gift of Wild Capital is this: it teaches you to pause. To look up at a tree you’ve passed a hundred times. To listen for a birdcall in the middle of traffic. And to realise that Delhi has always been wilder than we give it credit for.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews