Standing in the chambers of a family court judge on January 01, 2021, my naive self felt assured that the worst was behind me. Was it or was the worse yet to come? More about that later, or as viral Instagram reels say these days — Can we skip to the good part? Sure! Read on.
This image of the Grey Bushchat (male) was the first bird photo I took this year. Clicked enroute to the Bhagsunag temple near the pristine town of Mcleodganj (Himachal Pradesh). This photo would never have seen the light of the day, had a friend not nudged me to invest in a birding camera for the trip. Even the trip would not have happened had it been off by a week that month.
That month — April 2021…
For most of us, the second wave of the COVID19 pandemic was when numbers became names and the names became faces. So while the horrors of the pandemic continued to manifest themselves closer to home, for me this image became representative of how we had to mount on a perch of thorns, focus on the task at hand and keep doing the next right thing. As the tsunami of tragedy waned, leaving in it’s wake voids we may never be able to fill, birding become a de-facto coping mechanism for me. In a year where I got distance when I sought love from fellow humans, my avian friends didn’t seem to mind me being in close vicinity.
It felt as if I had found my love — again.
Why again you’d ask? Roll back 20 years, a rawboned teenager who had left his home at an early age to chase dreams comes back home one fine afternoon only to find his entire house renovated. Oblivious to anyone, he had been keeping a hand written journal of his bird sightings for the past five years. And all of it was gone! Just like that. Gone. Prepared in an era when internet hadn’t reached homes, each page had notes made from a library borrowed copy of The Book of Indian Birds by Salim Ali and bird sketches I was not proud of by the remotest of means. For two decades I lacked the patience to make a fresh start. Until I found it again this year when I waited for three hours hearing the Blue-throated Barbet call out from the canopy before I could finally capture it with my lens. That thing about good things come to those who wait seems true, no?
On the point of truth, the Hair Crested Drongo goes by the name Spangled Drongo in some field guides. Spangled, a derogatory slang denoting someone acting silly after getting drunk. In the beautiful English language it also means to have a sparkle on oneself. Having seen them at almost every birding location in the North, I think I know which meaning the bird aligns with. But not just them Drongos, isn’t it true of us as well? What makes us sparkle and stand out is often termed as silly? The choice to continue dazzling is ours to make.
Speaking of bird names, this was the one way I connected with avian friends since my early birding endeavors. Hair crested Drongo’s scientific name Dicrurus hottentottus is made up of Dikros (forked) and ouros (tail) the later part is from Hottentot (racial slur), used for South African Khoikhoi tribe from where the French zoologist naming this bird thought it came from.
Red-billed Blue Magpies are among the most beautiful of mountain birds. Seeing them in the wild perched or in flight can make the heart flutter. A moment I can vouch to have happened at the Jungle Lore Birding Lodge in Pangot. The Magpie however comes from “Margaret” for the ruckus they create and “Pie” for their habit of raiding nests of other birds to eat their eggs.
#HenceTheName you say?
Twitter things here? Yes. And about time that came out. In a year when getting together and meeting new people was a rarity, the @IndiAves community on Twitter has been a revelation. A closely knit group of “…passionate Bird and Indian wildlife enthusiasts who love Indian Flora and Fauna and wish to express and promote that love.” as we love to call ourselves. The entire #AviTribe is engaged in encouraging one and all to showcase their birding and wildlife exploits. I can’t be grateful enough to the encouragement I have got from @Bhrigzz @ShaliniElassery @siddisimple @HumayoonAsad @rdrakesh @incognito9 @KameiPrecious @atulMbhatnagar @ClickbySBhamidi @vinnisharma_ to name a few. And finding in Pankaj Singh (@pnkjshm) a birding mentor for life.
1 Year. 4 Homes. 5 States. 12 Cities. What are the odds of that happening in a pandemic year? 100% if you ask me. Spent time in a new city almost every second month. The bird count for this year is but a derivative of these relentless travels. From amongst the 182 individual bird sightings that I have had this year, most (47) came during a birding trip to Corbett-Pangot with the Bombay Natural History Society (BNHS) team. Lucknow gave the 100th sighting (Eurasian Hoopoe). Mudflats of Navi Mumbai gave some crazy wetland lifers like the Pacific Golden-Plover, a winter visitor to India from Alaska on its way to Australia. Talk about having a nomadic life. On the other hand, in what I call my home patch, (Pune) there is an Ashy Drongo visitor this year who has decided to settle down as a resident now it seems. Never make birds your life markers I’m guessing.
New Delhi is where I have ended up spending the longest time staying at this year and one of the reasons for that is this view to wake up to. Agreed that poor air quality would take out most of the days but there were moments, particularly those involving some Brown-headed Barbets, Rufous Treepies, Yellow-footed Green Pigeons, Lesser Goldenback Woodpecker and Shikras that made the effort worth it. Spotting an Oriental Honey Buzzard on a far off perch was a lifer sighting from the balcony. Hotspots like the Okhla Bird Sanctuary and the Sultanpur National Park made up for the remaining 21 lifer sightings in the Delhi- NCR.
As the winter visitors descended upon the national capital in November, I got to be part of a voluntary bird count that involved birding enthusiast fanning around the city for a day long count. In the community lunch that followed, I made a point about data gathered in these activities needing to find it’s way into our urban planning and policy making processes. We cannot let the greed-driven filling up of urban wetlands define the future of our cities. On that note, do read Wild and Wilful by Neha Sinha for a chronicling of how our wildlife conservation efforts are at cross roads with almost every aspect of our idea of development.
1000 plus words and you still here. I must be doing something right! But I won’t take more of your time as you admire this beautiful Red-billed Leiothrix, a name literally meaning soft hairs in Greek. If this post has got you interested in birding — head to the Bird Count India website and read up on how to get started (no, you don’t need an expensive camera) right from your balcony. The good folks at BNHS conduct regular birding webinars and you can reach out to them here. Happy Birding (and discovering yourself in the process). Each one inspire one.
Birding hotspots: New Delhi, Pune, Navi Mumbai and Gurgaon
Disclaimer: Birding, while immensely engaging and satisfying activity, is not a substitute for professional counseling. Your mental health deserves all the attention you can give it.
