Suraj Mal and the 2,000 fountains

15th January 2009, Bharatpur:

One evening, hungry and tired, eating hot rotis and dal, there was talk among some MNS members to visit Dig palace.  (Its pronounced Dheeg, and not dig as in an activity of Snow white's dwarfs).  Intrigued, my friend Raji and I decided to pile on to the trio who were planning to go, and so we became a car load.  

So, we decided, that 15th, post lunch we would set off for a half-day recce of this place.  Of course, like a  typical tourist from south India, I clicked away everytime I passed a camel cart, always amused at their superior stares.

The way was dotted with mustard fields in bloom, and it was a pretty sight.  Some of the others remarked that there has been a definite greening of this part of Rajasthan - it was more barren and dusty on their previous visits.

The roads were good and our driver was safe, and (thankfully) there are no hair-raising road stories in this account.  More camels, several unlicensed, made-up people carriers on a tractor chassis, and brick factories later, we arrive at Dig, a dusty little town, like any other, go past a fort wall, and around the bunds of a large tank with an impressive looking large building in the background (Gopal Bhavan, I realise later), and arrive at the parking lot for the Dig Palace.

We enter via this impressive Singh Pol gate, armed with little guide books picked up at the ticket counter.  The book says that this gate is incomplete - look at the bare arches inside, but still there's lovely carving all over the place, welcoming us to this sandstone marvel.
Singh-Pol. Spot the 2 lions atop the arch

The map below is from the Archealogical Survey of India ASI guide book.  The red arrows are the route we took around to the entrance.  As with most palace complexes, there are various buildings and complexes  added at various points in time, leading to much confusion to the first-time visitor.

Click on the ASI map, and keep it open as a separate tab - it will help you to follow my trail!So it was that we wandered into the main complex, the Gopal Bhawan, first.  I was struck by the elegance and elevation of this building.    And it was in good shape and well-preserved!  What little treasures we have tucked away in every part of the country.  It never ceases to amaze me, how we chance upon history even when we are not looking for it!  How old and tired our lands must be.

My mind wanders as I gaze on that building and think of Suraj Mal, the Jat ruler, who built this Bhawan in the eighteenth century.  My visit here, exposed me to a sliver of Jat history, (oh, so not everyone in Rajasthan was a Rajput?), and how the Jat peasants revolted against the Mughals, consolidated various kinships and established the Jat seat at Bharatpur under Badan Singh, Suraj Mal's father.  

Badan Singh, Suraj Mal and son Jawahar Singh, it appears were the significant rulers of Bharatpur, and it was a prosperous and growing prinicipality during the century when these rulers ruled.  
Gopal Bhawan - front facade
Gopal Bhawan

We entered the Bhawan by an inconspicuous small door, in the side. and were told to remove our footwear.  A caretaker/guide seems to be compulsory to go around the inside, I guess this is to prevent any destruction of the lovely interiors of the palace.

There is also no photography allowed inside, but I took a picture of this "bed" before I was informed of this.

Now, according to that caretaker Raja Suraj Mal on one of his military sorties into Delhi, looted this stone bed, thinking it was the Mughal queen's, and returned to be told that it was the stone slab on which the deceased Mughal kings and queens were embalmed!!  Do you think that story is true?!

A door took us into a gasp-causing room.  gasp-causing because the stone-bed room was bare, and somehow I assumed we would be led through a spartan place, with some relics here and there.  But no, we had walked into a lovely, well-appointed drawing room, with large hand-drawn embroidered punkahs adorning the roofs, carved wooden furniture and intricate trellis work on the side panels.  The room was two-storeys high, and carved panels at the first-floor height partitioned the royal quarters.  The trellis work was clever in that we could not see into those areas from down below, but when we went into those rooms, we could look down into the living room!  

In the middle, was a lovely marbled pool with fountains - Suraj Mal, according to me, should be christened the King of the Water Fountains.  There are 2,000 fountains in the palace complex! 

The caretaker spun us another story - which I have not been able to substantiate - pointing to the marble figure of a woman dancer.  He declared that she was the court dancer, a foreigner, who was so "taken in with the king", that when he died, she jumped onto his funeral pyre and committed sati.  He mentioned a name, and now I have forgotten it.  Any of my fellow travellers remember??

We were taken up a narrow staircase to the king's room, with its king-sized bed, large ornate mirrors and paintings of Krishna on the wall.  There was also a mysterious looking "hole" in the wall, which turned out to be a hotline to the maharani's room!

Then there was a large marble Indian style dining table - when I first saw it, I thought it was a giant potty - with lovely semi-precious inlay work, a bit like the Dungarpur table where we had enjoyed a magical dinner.

I musn't forget the old-style air conditioning.  There was a room with a contraption, which blew scented water vapour through a system of pipes into the royal chambers!  So, the caretaker told us, a team of workers would work ceaselessly to turn the wheel that dragged water through a fine mesh, mixed it with fragrance and sent it to the rooms!  (It still works, by the way!)

As we spoke, we arrived at the royal verandah, from where we were allowed to take a few pictures, looking out, and this is what we saw.  In the picture above, you'll see that the lower-most floor is under water.  This was the method used to keep the palace cool in the summer.
As we looked to our left, we could see the "Bhadon" pavillion - we wandered into that open courtyard with arches that you see, and I'll describe it to you in detail further on.

Delightful sandstone carvings adorned every bit of  the facade, and as we stood in looking out, it was like a time warp - there on the outer edge of the tank, the town roads were filled with vehicles with horns blaring, advertisements for Airtel and Vodafone, and men dressed in trousers and polyester shirts.

At the same time, reminiscent of times gone by, the water's edge saw women washing their colourful sarees in the Govind Sagar, and children playing around their mothers, in and out of the water.

I idly wondered if Raja Suraj Mal allowed the washing of clothes in the tank in the old days.

I was brought out of my reverie by the sound of Mr Shivakumar's voice, as he dryly commented that he would've been quite happy as the Raja's secretary!!

The Queen's quarters were not open to us, and that was more-or-less the end of our tour of the insides of the Gopal Bhawan.  The caretaker was generously tipped for his services, and as we left we saw another bunch of tourists go off on the same tour that we had!

Emerging out into the natural light, the vast expanse of the Mughal gardens and the fountains stretched out ahead of us, with the Keshav Bhawan in the distance.

The caretaker had told us a story about how the fountains would be filled with colour-coordinated water, so that different fountains would spout different colours.  From what I could make out (I'm no Hindi pundit you see),  he said something about divers going into the large water tank that was between Suraj Bhawan and Kishen Bhawan, and stuffing different colour pitchkaris into different pipes that went to different fountains.  Now, that tank was 2m deep and as wide as a building, and took a week to fill, and if all the fountains were turned on, the display would last only a few hours!!

The main line of fountains with Keshav Bhawan in the distance, looking east from Gopal Bhawan

Leading in to the gardens was this gigantic "swing" frame.  The story goes that this frame was brought back as loot by Suraj Mal from one of his raids on Delhi.  there is actually no swinging swing, if you know what I mean, just this highly ornate frame.

Marble hindola stolen from the Mughals
Next, we decided to explore the Bhadon pavillion -  that verandah-like lower level in the flanking pavillions.  
Bhadon pavillion

In the picture below is the view from that level, but more than the view what was mind-blowing was the detailed arrangement and design of water flow.  In the middle of the rear wall was a strangely inclined slab of carved sandstone, which we discovered was a chute over which water flowed.  The carvings would produce ripples and provide a form to the flowing water, which then went underground via a drain and came into a kind of cistern in the middle of the hall, in the floor.  But more interestingly, above in the roof, there were pipes with holes through which water would sprinkle, creating a rain-like effect!

The Chatri rooftop
Suraj Bhawan - the marble complex
Suraj Bhawan

Marked "4" on the map, Suraj Bhawan is a marble, single-storied building.  This was built by Jawahar Singh and the conjecture is that the marble was brought back from one of the side buildings in the Delhi Fort.  It has a very Mughal look to it, with carved arches, inlay work and patterned floors.
Decorated archways

Inlay work

The rooms were a bit poky though, and the ASI book surmises that this bhawan was probably a place of recreation for the ladies of the palace, and not a residence.

As someone in our group remarked, "Where are the toilets?!"

Decorated floors

Behind the Suraj Bhawan is the two-storeyed Hardev Bhawan.  It was rather dilapitated when we visited, and there was a strong stench of bats, actively discouraging us from further explorations of its insides.  

Hardev Bhawan

I did like the roof, though.  That roof pattern seems to be a unifying factor for the various bhawans.  The book says that the Gopal Bhawan - now with a flat roof - also had a crowning "chatri" over it, but it has been ruined.  
Hardev Bhawan roof

Keshav Bhawan - the square pavillion from where you could hear mock thunder
As it looked - Pic from the ASI book
Then....

Once again, the water engineer of Deeg has to be marvelled.  See the fountains surrounding the inner set of pillars?  Along with that, there were pipes with jets circling the roof, and supposedly some of these pillars are hollow and water would be passed through them with such force, that a visitor would hear the thunder of the clouds, and feel the rain as well!!
Now...

Sadly, this was the state of the restoration work.  Ugly brick walls have ruined the aesthetics of the hall and the grace of the pillars.Keshav Bhawan & Purana Mahal. View from Shish Mahal, across the Rup Sagar. Pic from ASI book

The brick walls somehow destroyed our good cheer, and the group  of us sat and pensively stared across at the older parts of the palace complex, across the Rup Sagar.


Rup Sagar

The old fort walls and the dilapidated Shish Mahal suddenly took me back to the old crumbling yalis on the banks of the Bosphorus in Istanbul.  I was hit  by a moment of huzun, the melancholy of the Turks so well described by Pamuk.

The old fort walls
Shish Mahal

We lost our appetite for further explorations somehow, and headed back to our car.  Maybe it was the fever I felt coming, as well.  

Bats hung in plenty from a tree, and I stared in fascination as some of them, scratched their ears, all the while hanging upside down!  We stopped for tea and vegetable chaat, both of which were unsatisfactory.  the chaat was too expensive and the tea-in-a-matka, smelled of, well, mud!  It was probably our low mood.

As we returned, we spied more havelis in the towns in between.  The men stopped off in Bharatpur town, sampled gajar halwa (and brought some back for us - it was delicious!), went to a purana mandir in some back lanes, and then walked back.  We women were tired, headed back to our rooms, a warm bath and a reunion with the rest of the bunch who had stayed on at the bird sanctuary.  

How could I forget these beauties?

Meet Marianne and Pyrene, two sunny beauties I saw for the first time at Bharatpur, and I had completely overlooked.  Seeing the Blue Mormon at GNP last weekend, suddenly brought them back to mind, and I hunted through my 200-odd photos from Bharatpur.

And here they are!  They love to sunbathe it seems, and that suited me fine, as I could get really close to them to take these shots.  I was also double delighted as their common names actually were easy to remember.  (I actually didn't write their names down and I still recalled them!)  Pyrene here below is Yellow orange tip, 

Ixias pyrene

Ixias marianne

...and this is White orange tip!!  No crow, mormon, tiger or eggfly!  

And no butterfly mimicry to confuse me as well.

Arun spots a Mongolian!

Arun of MNS "saw(and photographed) this female Barheaded Goose ( 2nd March, 2009
5.40 pm), in Koondhakulam (flock of about 120 birds). Contacted the concerned people and found out that -- it had been banded in Darkhad Valley of Northern Mongolia on 17th July 2008 by the Wildlife Conservation Society of Mongolia.... 5000 km journey"

Photo by Arun
I saw these birds for the first time in January this year, when I travelled to Bharatpur, the bird sanctuary in north India.  These geese are quite common in other countries I know, but for us they are definitely not-so-common.

I remember being amused at their honking and bossy ways in the marsh, as they quarreled with each other and waddled around in this most busy fashion!  But to find them all the way down south!  That's quite astonishing!

I wonder what these "Mongolians" thought about our country and our water tanks!  But it looks like their visit is not entirely unusual, as I came across this 2005 The Hindu article where it states that "bare-headed geese" expected to arrive from China are being monitored for the Bird Flu virus!

Koodankulam/Koondakulam, by the way is a sanctuary near Tirunelveli in southern-most Tamil Nadu.  Its well known for a nuclear plant located there.

Look out for wild birds marked in Mongolia

The Wildlife Conservation Society exhorts us to look out for marked birds and report to them if you see any such birds banded either as a collar or on the leg.

Photo by Arun

As I saw this picture of them in flight, I wondered, were they looking to return to their summer homes?

Great work Arun!  (Arun's a doc, by the way, no kidding, a medical doc. )

Update - 30th April, 2009

It seems to be the season to visit Koondakulam.  Other MNS members, (maybe inspired by Arun?) also visited and came back with a gallery-ful of excellent shots and poses of water birds.

Skandan witnessed quite a flamingo performance, reminiscent of the Bolshoi ballet performances of old.

Prof Chandrasekaran on the other hand, was at hand to record the Council Meeting of the Painted Storks, as well as the General Assembly, taking detailed visual notes all the while!

Skandan wrote in, "It ws a great birding trip for us as Mr Pal Pandiyan,the birdman of Koondakulam guided us perfectly to the right spots to have a closer look at many a species.... 

All the snaps are taken from very safe distance and the birds were not disturbed from their habitat at any point..."

More tree tales from GNP

March 15th, 2009 7:30 am, and a dozen of us awaited another walk through GNP with Bhanu. Strange, I thought, all my walks in this city sanctuary have been with Bhanu!  She probably loves the place, and sees it as a great and easy way to sensitise people to nature, flora and fauna.

(Read about Bhanu and her puppetry here.)  Why were we there?  Well, MNS and Bhanu offered a kind of "train-the-trainer"  weekend session, where we were expected to pick up skills and tips on how to spread the message among school children.  So, on Saturday, she had taught us games, exercises, craft ideas and even puppet-making, all great tools to help reach out to children.

Blue Mormon

Poor Bhanu, I do not think she would have come across a more artistically-challenged "student" than yours truly!  Defensively, I whined, "Bhanu, this is not my strength"!  Well, to cut a long story short, I stuck my thumb in paint, used some sketch pens, cut paper furiously, looked uncomprehendingly as she demonstrated string art, and was pooped at the end of the day, with all this hard work!!  All around me, the other ladies seemed to be coping much better than me, working faster and more skillfully!  

Mean-looking thorns!

So, it was that on Sunday morning we were to go on a nature trail. I looked forward in anticipation to a morning out among the trees.  I even sacrificed my maternal desire to go to the station and pick up my teenage son, on the altar of my morning learnings!!  (Well, I had not seen him for three days and four nights, you know.)
Leaf galls

It was a cloudy, dull morning but the learning started almost immediately.  Leaf galls, cotton stainer bugs and chitals in the distance as soon as we stepped in.
Cotton stainer bug

Tamarinds hang in bunches
Spot the chital
The GNP "regulars" - Glycosmis, Clausena and Perandai.

Glycosmis cochinensis
Tamarinds hung in bunches, as did antigonon flowers and Prosopsis pods. Actually it was quite a pod-filled morning - all shapes and sizes.
Clausena dentata
Cissus quadrangularis
Siris treeMy favourite was this flowering Siris tree - looks like a  white-flowered  rain tree does it not? Albizia lebbeck, if you want to read up about it.  Its got these pods that rattle in the wind, reportedly - we didn't hear them - it was not windy!
Then there was this termite "road" that wound up a tree - why did the termites not use a short cut and go straight up rather than follow the path of the vine?

See the lichen on the bark - signs of low pollution levels.  More pollution and the lichens disappear.  So, GNP is not doing too badly I guess.

Jatropha shrubs, favoured by green link spidersA green lynx (or is it link) spider- Peucetia viridana- clambered up a Jatropha shrub.  give that shrub a second look.  Its native to Central America and has led to much excitement because its seed has some 40% oil, which reportedly is a good diesel substitute!!

I am imagining the day I go and fill the car with jatropha oil.  And then, the waste leftover can make electricity too!  A lot of uses for an unassuming looking shrub, isn't it?

I wonder what the implications on the soil are if its planted widely, though?  The Indian Railways have already experimented using the oil in diesel mixtures for their diesel locos on some sectors.

Bracket fungus

Can you spot the bracket fungus growing out of this branch?  Its pretty colourless and so difficult to spot.  

What is the difference between mushrooms and fungi?  I just learned that mushrooms are actually fungi!!  

I just lost my appetite for them.  Yuk, imagine I've been eating fungus all along!

Cassia auriculata flowerHere's another Cassia.  This one's a shrub and not a tree.  Cassia auriculata, evergreen and "gregarious", the GNP book says!  See, now I even know a gregarious plant!  

And the pods are thin and flat.
Cassia auriculata pods

Carissa spinarum
Here's another GNP regular - Carissa - probably quite tasty, since the black buck and chital reportedly browse on it, and it has edible fruits! Pity, there weren't any on it. But we saw a lot of the white flowers, tinged with a slight pink
Morinda tinctoria barkThe Nona tree - Morinda tinctoria - the bark with personality, is another common tree of the area.
Morinda tinctoria canopy
Kiss & Hug?!I think this is a flowering wood apple tree.  
And this last one was very confusing - kiss and hug, kiss and kill, epiphyte or parasite, I need to get clarity on this!  (Update:  Check the comments - this is the Dodder or Cuscuta and yes, it is a parasite - so its probably a kiss and kill!)

Oh yes, the highlight definitely was that Blue Mormon seen above.  It was HUGE, and it was blue and black.  The light was poor, and that's all the colour that my camera got, sorry.  It looks more white than blue in this!

The miseries of being an Owl

This last month, I learnt something, which I wish I had not.  Or rather, I wish was not true.

It all started with an excited email from one of the MNS members sharing a photo of the owl at Nanmangalam, and how there were two new chicks.  Oh wow, I thought, thats so good, to know they are progressing nicely in our very own reserve forest.

However,  there was a flurry of cautionary emails from more experienced members and they painted a rather ominous and gloomy picture.  

Here's a gist of the quotes:-

On photographing of nesting Great Horned Owls in Nanmangalam RF: As naturalists I am sure you all would take care not to disturb the breeding birds. But we should also be aware that the people who use this RF for various purposes are also watching us. When they watch us photographing they would know the breeding birds’ location. Out of curiosity or for several other reasons they do go near the nest / disturb or injure the adult bird or the chicks…

Too much publicity could have adverse and unfortunate consequences. In the interest of the birds one should practice restraint both in photography and observation.

Isn't it better that we visit the place more often and more frequently, so that the RF becomes too "public" and too "visible" for anti-social elements? If we stay away, then we are allowing these anti-socials to "rule" the place.

…a greater presence of concerned (and genuine) birdwatchers could well be healthy for the place and the birds because this will eventually edge out the poachers and other elements. What is desirable here is the declaration of this area into a sanctuary (not just a Reserve which it already is. What is probably a better solution is what I have heard is already in the wind -- the creation of an eco-park at the site. An eco-park scores over a sanctuary in that it is easier to implement because it is public-friendly, something that appeals to any government, and at the same time affords full protection to the resident wildlife. A look at the Poonga will confirm this.

I agree with the note of caution expressed. There is illegal trade in owls in the country. A picture of the nest and details of its location are an open invitation to poachers. Moreover, any nest photography is now discouraged. If you see a nest, just look at it, be thankful that the birds are breeding and move away quietly.

I was really shocked at that last comment.  Why would anyone covet an owl?  And then this article was posted....

Sad, Wise Eyes

By Shruti Ravindran

Outlook Magazine

Why owls are the target of poachers and trappers:

• Used for tantrik rites and occult practices
  
• Are believed to bring riches, as Lakshmi, Goddess of Wealth, rides on one
  
• In South India, owls’ hoots are thought to predict fate – one signifying imminent death, two, imminent success, three, a marriage, etc.
  
• Tantriks and rural medicine men prescribe: owl-eye broth for night-vision, owl claws as good luck charms, owl feathers to repel evil spirits, owl meat as aphrodisiac, owl torture for directions to hidden treasure.
  

Price they fetch: from Rs 5,000 up to Rs 8 lakh for Barn Owl or Great Horned Owl

Threatened species: Barn Owl, Eastern Grass Owl, Collared Scops Owl, Great Horned Owl (Eurasian Eagle Owl), Brown Fish Owl, Spotted Owlet, Jungle Owlet, Asian Barred Owlet

Most in demand: in Gujarat, Maharashtra, UP, MP, Orissa, West Bengal

Demon birds. Death-portending banshees. Soul-eaters. Owls attract foreboding and superstitious epithets as naturally and irresistibly as pandas attract fond baby-talk and tigers attract awestruck poetry. Their nocturnal nature, their devil-like horns, their sudden screeching from ancient tree-hollows in cemeteries, or the unnerving way they twist their heads around to fix you in a piercing, lidless stare -- all of these traits have long earned them spooky pride of place, along with the bat, in fearful folk tales and horror films. Now, they’re also earning them death sentences, thanks to tantriks and medicine men, who use them in black magic rituals and ‘miracle-cures’ for their gullible clientele.

Abrar Ahmed, consultant with Traffic, a body which monitors wildlife trade, has been tracking the owl trade for the past three years – more than a decade after he first stumbled on it while researching a countrywide report on the illegal bird trade. His research has taken him to desolate trappers’ houses along the tribal belt to village markets spanning all of north India, and the bird bazaars of bigger cities like Lucknow and Delhi. "There are 29 species of owls in India," says Ahmed. "Of these, half are used for some nefarious purpose or the other."

The most common purpose is witchcraft. As the vehicle of Goddess Lakshmi, the owl is associated with wealth. So, those hoping to strike it rich with the help of an occult boost visit tantriks around the festive season of Diwali and Durga Puja. The tantriks then conduct owl-sacrifices, anoint their customers with sacrificial owl blood and give them an owl-claw; guaranteed, they say, to act as a lightning rod for a massive fortune. This sounds like a gruesome, senseless activity, but it’s one that even educated, city-dwelling denizens of Mumbai, Ahmedabad, Delhi and Calcutta indulge in.

Industrialists, particularly in these bleak recession times, willingly fork out up to 8 lakh for a gold-and-grey Barn Owl or a Great Horned Owl (Eurasian Eagle Owl). Since these species are hard to find, trappers and middlemen often try to disguise the poor little Spotted Owlet as a juvenile Horned Owl by fashioning ear-tufts out of pasted feathers, and staining its eyes with toxic orange-coloured ink.

Village haats and small-town markets abound in luridly illustrated black magic booklets that advocate owl-bone amulets as charms, owl-eye broth for improving night-vision, owl-meat for rheumatism, seizures, and as an aphrodisiac. "We’ve come across some stomach-turning recipes," says Samir Sinha, Head of Traffic, "Concoctions with owls’ ear-tufts, brains and eyes, to hypnotise someone and make them a slave for life." Some booklets also recommend that owls – when tortured or starved – will be persuaded to reveal, in a human voice, the locations of hidden treasure.

As Sinha ruefully observes, "There’s no end to human stupidity or faith, and there’s a thin line between the two!"
Bird-baiting is another market force that drives the owl-trade, though to a significantly smaller extent.

Owls – particularly the Spotted Owlet and Jungle Owlet – serve as decoys for bird trappers trying to catch bulbuls and sunbirds for the pet trade. Trappers use the owlets as conspicuous bait, and have cruel means of keeping them stationary, such as stitching their eyes closed and forcefeeding them enormous quantities of mice so that they become sluggish . Owls are also used in street performances, ‘blessing’ amulets for onlookers to purchase. Some adivasi folk, such as the Bahelias and Chirimars of Central India, even eat the white-faced Grass Owl for the stringy, meagre sustenance it offers them.

Word of the growing demand for owls and the astronomical prices they can fetch has made its way down south. Trappers are descending into forests and grasslands, and coming out with sackfuls of Great Horned Owls, Barn Owls and Scops Owls. These are among the six species of owls that are being trafficked to the north, according to recent reports from Kerala. Trappers have set to work in Chennai too. Recently, a group of naturalists dismantled traps around nesting sites of the Great Horned Owl in a rocky outcrop in the outskirts of the city.

While the scale of the owl-trade may be negligible compared to the trade in popular ‘ornamental’ parakeets or munias, the immediate ecological impact is far graver. As predators, owls are highly effective pest-control agents. A single Horned Owl snacks on at least three large, plump rats per day.So, when the owl population decreases, the rodent population increases exponentially, laying waste to crops. That’s why forest officials in Kerala have noticed an increasingly flourishing rodent population in the state. Farmers in Tamil Nadu and Kerala have taken to putting up attractive perches to lure owls to dine on the pests ravaging their fields.

In South Indian cities, however, owls are not made to feel quite as welcome, mostly due to prevalent superstitious beliefs, such as one that holds that a single owl hoot is an omen of imminent death. Says Chennai-based naturalist Anantanarayan Rajaram: "Tenants who share my flat complex want strong lights to be installed on the roof to ward off the Barn Owls that seek shelter there, because they consider all owls to be harbingers of evil." Kerala city dwellers tend to be equally hostile, he adds. "There, the Brown Wood Owl is held in fear for its call: ‘powwa powwa’, which means "Going, going", and signifies that a person around the area will die soon."

Sadly, at the rate at which owls are getting decimated, the next dolorous ‘to-whoot’ you hear may well be signalling its own end.

Do see the original article, there are some pitiful pictures of owls trapped, with ink-stained eyes, and God knows what else.

In this case, my ignorance was bliss, I think.

Magpie-robin Menezes

Mrs Robin at the campsite

With due apologies to Ranjit Lal, who in his delightful "Crow Chronicles", named the soulful singer of Bharatpur thus. I was given the book by Chitra before departing for Bharatpur, but my son wanted first dibs, and so I read it (actually am still enjoying it) on my return.

For anyone who has been to Bharatpur, the book is a must-read, as all the birds of Bharatpur are characters in a fast-paced adventure set in the sanctuary.  The characterisation is delightful, with the main protagaist being His Excellency Shri Khatarnak Kala Kaloota Kawa Kaw Kaw aka Kaw the crow!

I digress though.  This post is about that perky, jaunty little black-and-white bird that you cannot fail to see in Bharatpur, with its upright tail and its sad song.
Mr Robin, with his tail up

They sat on tree stubs, hopped on the path, flitted about the central camp area, where we would gather for chai and biscuits...we would see them early morning, in the midday, and towards sunset as well.

Somehow, I always saw the bird alone.  I wonder if thats its habit, solitary.

We all got pictures of this little bird, because it did not seem shy of humans, and was quite happy to pose.
Carthic took this

Mr Ramanan found this lady on his bicycle!

And this young man peered inquisitively at Mr Ramanan

While the bird itself was busy, cheerful and jaunty its song I felt was somewhat plaintive. Hear it for yourself, and tell me what you think. This is the song that we would typically hear late in the evening, say at sunset.  I took this little video clip as a memory of the song, so dont expect to see the bird in great detail...its there though, that little shadow flicking its tail!

I also learnt that a bird call is different from a bird song. And magpie robins have an enormous range of calls and some songs as well.

Song performance rules in the Oriental Magpie Robin, is the title of a research study done on these birds in Nepal. The researchers studied the dawn-singing of around five Oriental Magpie Robins, and found that the songsters were quite original in their tunes! They switched songs/motifs, interacted and communicated through these songs, and in general kept Messrs Bhattacharya, Cirillo, Subba and Todt busy and fascinated!!

Birdsong is a learned behaviour, so that would mean that the Magpie-robins of Bharatpur would probably sing differently from their counterparts in Nepal! Well, why am I surprised - an Indian from Kochi speaks differently from her counterpart in Madras, doesnt she? We just assume that this is not true in the non-human world, dont we?

I wish I had known this before going to Bharatpur....I would have listened more carefully to the singing of these lovely, musical little songbirds, and maybe come back wit memories of different songs!  For now, though, I only have this one tune associated with the robins.

(If you want read more about Bharatpur, or go to the beginning of this serialised narration, click here.)

The uncommon incident of the Common Crane

The Bharatpur story never seems to end, does it? To start at the beginning, click here.

Apparently, they are common somewhere, but to me and all of us who saw them, they were definitely uncommon and elusive!!

We were hot and sweaty, having pedalled away on the brick-lined, bone-jarring bund bordering the Ghana canal.  The early morning mist and cool air had long gone, and now we were thankful for the shade of the occasional tree that lined the bund, and against which my faithful purple steed  could be rested!

It was our last day at the sanctuary, and I had already seen my first munia ever, a tree full of yellow footed pigeons, and even several black Redstarts.  While the munias would just not sit still as they hopped from twig to ground to bush to twig, the pigeons just sat and stared!  They looked glum and disappointed like a bunch of Congress workers after their party had lost an election!  The redstarts had no time for us as they zipped and flew through the air, and I felt quite dizzy and tired just trying to follow them!

So, I had had my fill of excitement - or so I thought, and was just staring contentedly into the dry grassland, looking at some cattle moving around in a desultory fashion.  But not Divya. Ever vigilant, thats what she is, and she suddenly barked, "Hey Varun, there's some big bird, look past those cows."  So, while I was going, "where, I cant see, oh thats just a calf", etc etc, Varun the sharp-eyed declared that they were Common Cranes.

Inskipp and Salim Ali were consulted, binoculars trained and a consensus was reached. Common Cranes they were.  See that black streak down the face, or is it a white streak on a black face?  But they are not common, I wailed.  So Varun placates me, "They are common in Europe, you see, they are only winter visitors here."  I was still miffed and truculent, and muttered militantly that we should give them our own name, and its not fair, etc etc.  

Anyway, common cranes they were, and a lovely family of four, mum, dad and two teenagers?  Now they were actually more than 600m away, (atleast I think so), and our binocs were at the limit of their capabilities.  Thankfully we had two large gunners with us, who crept a little ahead and got these photos.

Photo by CarthicGrus grus- thats their official name.

Like the Sarus, these too have an extended and elaborate calling and dancing behaviour.

The International Crane Foundation site says:

Mated pairs of cranes, including Eurasian Cranes, engage in unison calling, which is a complex and extended series of coordinated calls. The birds stand in a specific posture, usually with their heads thrown back and beaks skyward during the display. The male always lifts up his wings over his back during the unison call while the female keeps her wings folded at her sides. In Eurasian Cranes the male initiates the display and utters one call for every three female calls. All cranes engage in dancing, which includes various behaviors such as bowing, jumping, running, stick or grass tossing, and wing flapping. Dancing can occur at any age and is commonly associated with courtship, however, it is generally believed to be a normal part of motor development for cranes and can serve to thwart aggression, relieve tension, and strengthen the pair bond.

This calling is seen in several crane types, and I do wish I had witnessed it!

Photo by SkandanWell, I guess I was lucky just to be in the right place at the right time.  After a while, papa crane kept looking watchfully and warily to his right, and then we saw a group of jackals in the grass.

A few minutes later, and the cranes were off, flying away from us, with the long graceful strokes of their wings.  With a wingspan of some 6-7 ft, it was quite a sight to see the four of them, in a similar rhythm, take off and fly in a "V".  It was another of those silence moments, where I was dumbstruck, though Varun kept muttering deliriously, fantastic, fantastic!

As we moved on, our eyes caught another two families of these cranes take to the air!  Where had they been hiding?  We had not noticed them at all!

And so ended the uncommon incident of the Common Crane.

Bharatpur Photo extravaganza

Here are some links to photo albums of MNS members, who have uploaded their choicest (is there such a word?) pictures of our Bharatpur visit.

Carthic's lovely shots of the geese and ducks

Sripad's gallery with great jackal and owl pictures

Skandan's portfolio from Bharatpur and Ranthambore!

Mr Ramanan sends us his photos via email, and so maybe I should develop a special set for his photos?

Encounters with the Nilgai

My abiding memory of Bharatpur is the misty mornings as we set of on our cycles.  Visibility would be low, but the air would be filled with bird calls - duck, geese and lapwings.

The lanes would vanish into nothingness, and at times we would not be able to see the other members of our group who were just ahead or just behind.  

I think the beauty (and probably the cold!) of the mornings affected all of us, as suddenly we would all lapse into silence and just look, greedily drinking in the sights and sounds of the sanctuary.

The lovely road past Shanti Kutir is not used that much by visitors, and has some nice twists and turns, and along with the chill in the air, and the hanging mist, it suddenly reminded me of a scene from an old Sherlock Holmes novel.  Only somehow there was nothing sinister about the setting!

Nilgai was the most common type of antelope we saw, though there were some chital and sambar as well.   With no large predators in Bharatpur, the Nilgai have no security concerns, and are thriving well.  We would often come across herds of females and young ones, like this.  they are the largest antelopes in Asia, and are common in north India, though for me from the south, it was my first encounter.

 
Their brown coats give them a good camouflage in the dry, tall grass.  The females were my first sighting of the Nilgai, and I wondered why they were called a Nilgai - or blue bull - there was not a hint of blue!  

It wasn't long before I saw my first male Nilgai, though, and what a handsome creature it is!

As big as a horse and called Boselaphus tragocamelus, they look like creatures from the magical forest around Hogwarts!

All I needed was to see one fly, for the image to be complete.  Alas, that was not to be, but the members had close encounters with them one time or another!
Photo by Mr Ramanan

Mr Ramanan was almost knocked down by one male Nilgai as it came crashing through the undergrowth on one side of the track, and quickly lumbered through on the other side!  He did get this beautiful photo though, as it stood, all ears, ready to charge off at the slightest threat.  

The insides of the ears have a distinct marking, and the adult males are usually off on their own.  A single lone female is unusual, as is this photo by Sripad, where the pattern on the hooves are so well seen.

Photo by SripadOn one occasion, as Divya and I followed Sripad and Carthic, (or was it Skandan?), a male Nilgai emerged on to the path from the marsh on the right side behind the pair of riders in front, and ahead of Divya and me.  We stood stock still, and there was a period of eyeball-to-eyeball contact, before it dashed off to the left of the path, only to find its way blocked by undergrowth.  At this point, it panicked and charged back from where it had initially come, and then we heard it sloshing through the marsh, probably grumbling at us all the while!
I dont know whose photo this is, but its not mine!Oh yes, and like rhinos, Nilgai have interesting toilet habits - they have a centralised dropping area, like what you see below!  So if you want to see one of them, I guess all you have to do is hang around one of these spots!  They all have to go at some point dont they?

Now I could not bring myself to finish this post with that picture, So I have this magnificent photo by Carthic.

Photo by CarthicHow could people actually hunt these handsome creatures?  And that too for "sport"?  Okay, they are not endangered, but would any sane person want to hunt them?

Why am I ranting?  Well there are scores of ranches in Texas that advertise Nilgai hunts, as a pastime and sport.  (Do a google - there are scores of them.)  Yeah right, some sport, you have a gun as long as his body and what does he have - just strong legs to run, and run and run.  

I have this nightmare that one day, all this senseless killing and mindless hunting will be reversed upon us, as the animal kingdom gains it karmic revenge....

In India too, they can be hunted.  They are not endangered.  And as they run out of space to graze, they come into farmlands to graze.  In Rajasthan and Gujarat, Nilgai have become a menace to farmers.  But given their resemblance to cows, they are not killed, reportedly, though in these states you could hunt them I believe.

An article on the Nilgai by the Wildlife Institute of India,  writes, 

Although there has been a reduction in the overall range of nilgai, the existing populations seem to be doing fairly well. This is largely because of they are a protected species under the law, and more importantly the protection they acquire from being considered sacred due to their resemblance to domestic cows. Moreover, gradual degradation of dense forests into open scrub and thickets, increasingly bordered by agricultural fields, has offered favourable habitat conditions for the increase of nilgai numbers. Invariably, in such situations, nilgai become serious pests as crop raiders and a major issue of human-wildlife conflict. Possible solutions voiced include a selective culling programme linked to licensed hunting permits. However, throughout the range of the nilgai, most farmers are Hindus, and in Rajasthan and Haryana, many of them are Bishnois, a sect that rigorously protects all animals. Bishnoi farmers prefer to tolerate the raids on their crops rather than permit the slaughter of nilgai. So it is highly unlikely that any scheme to cull or ranch nilgai either for hunting or for local consumption will ever work in India (Kyle 1990). This attitude may however change, when the number of people living off the land increases, when the local people begin to believe nilgai are vermin or a source of meat. Relocations of problematic nilgai, for the time being, seem the safest solution.

Another example of the human-animal conflict, which can only get worse with time.

Is there a humane and sensible solution?

(To start at the beginning of the Bharatpur narration, click here.)

Spot that bird

An account of the bird race, by the winning team that appeared in The Hindu.
Spot that bird

There are more birds in Chennai than we thought…That’s what the Bird Race showed. NINA SIMON

With two bikes between four of us, Arun, Hopeland, Rajkumar and I spent our time after an unfair Saturday at college (they don’t call it a weekend for nothing!) criss-crossing the city searching for birds. January 29 was the bird race held by the Madras Naturalist Society and we were in a hurry to finish our homework and be free. Arun named our team “The Common Crows” as we entered the race.

“D day”: I never wake up in time; my college attendance or rather its lack is proof. So Arun had to leave home at 3.00 a.m. to wake me up! At 4.30 a.m. we were on the road, cold wind whipping our skin and the first bird we saw was the common crow! Soon we were on the East Coast Road on the way to Vadanamali Village.

As dawn appeared we searched the bushes for lark, whimbrel, curlew, sandpipers and other birds found near the backwaters. We ticked more birds than we expected on our checklist but a fast fading “flamingo pink” sky told us that we had to get back on the road. This time to Pallikaranai spotting 46 species and seeing an eagle hunt a snake and feed on it.

Next visit: Sholinganallur where we spotted wagtails, pintails and greb along with a few raptors.At 9.00 a.m. we passed through Nanmangalam to see the booted eagle. Reaching Ponmar by 10.30 a.m. we got to see harriers up close perched on the electric cables as we searched for paddy birds while allowing our bikes to cool down. We visited Arun’s old friend the barn owl at Vijayshanthi Apartments too. We then spent a stiff one hour on the 365-acre campus of Madras Christian College since we knew where to find the birds (we study there).

Above us a Montagu’s harrier hovered in the air trying to find prey in the dense scrub jungle below. We spotted the yellow wattled lapwing, which made our day! Hopeland had to write down the birds we spotted sitting on a moving bike because we had no time.

It was already 12.30 p.m. and our next stop was one—and –a- half hours away! We reached Vedanthangal and set ourselves spotting birds: in no time we’d ticked off painted storks, pelicans, open bills, cormorants, darters, greb and a whole list of water birds from our list.

We drove back to the city just in time for a rush-hour traffic jam. Looking like vagabonds we limped past the President Hotel parking lot trying to look a little bit more presentable only to find that we were not the only ones around. Kids of eight and 10 were talking about their passion for birds, rattling off bird names; and old men and women were acting like children comparing notes like secrets!

All through this race I had only one thought other than spotting birds: “would we win?” But now I realised it didn’t matter for the experience of driving 310 km and spotting 131 species and sharing my experience with the rest was a trophy in itself. After the meeting and dinner hosted by the Madras Naturalist Society each of us walked out with a treasury of tales and a satisfied smile.

Each of us had contributed to a conservation movement that might one day save the birds of our city. If you have ever heard the owl hooting at night you will understand the satisfaction I got that day!

Nina Simon is a IInd year student of Zoology, Madras Christian College

Well, they must have had some sore butts after that, with 300+ kms under their belts, in a day!