Tell it To The Birds

It all began at the end of the nineteenth century, when the Maharaja of Bharatpur decided to create his own shooting reserve for wildfowl. Against his royal command, an existing marshland was deepened and extended. The idea was that the bigger the marsh, the more birds it would be able to attract. Apart from the seasonal monsoon rains, a large irrigation work provided the water for the lagoons.

For easy access to the sportsmen, raised embankments, that serve as roads and walking trails, ran through the park. After a hundred years or so, the trails are still there, possibly generation after generation of different birds live there and migrate each winter to the park and then fly away before the summer. I’m sure the new kids on the block get a cold shoulder for a while, till the older families become used to them.

There is an air of serenity here, an island of calm, set to one side of the busy highway. Once inside the gate, you forget the rumble of trucks and buses plying up and down outside the boundaries of the park. Bharatpur is home to birds the year around; painted stork, heron, egret, spoonbill, cormorant owl are found cheek by jowl with smaller birds like the bee-eater, oriole, Indian roller, larks, iora, martins, swallows and weaver bird, all of whom breed in summer and the monsoons.

Winter is the time when waders, duck, curlews, sandpipers and pewits, among birds of all descriptions migrate from Siberia, eastern Europe and Tibet to pass the winter here, where food is plentiful and the days are long. This is also the best time for seeing not only the resident species but also the migrant ones. Early in the morning as the mist rises off the water, visibility is poor but as far as the eye ranges there are flocks of duck, bobbing up and down on the water. Some have their heads tucked into their wings and are sleeping, while others are busily upending in the water foraging for plants and insects.

For comic relief watch a duck upending, this is when it dives halfway down for a tasty morsel and only the tail end of the body sticks up wiggling away madly. Most waterbirds are placid, but they do keep a beady eye on you. If startled, the whole flock lifts off with a whirr of wings only to return a little while later. This happens when a large group of tourists come by laughing and chattering; they do not subscribe to the idea that birdwatching is a somewhat quiet pastime. ‘‘Time pass’’ in India is a raucous affair.

Purple moorhens with their red foreheads and bills and metallic blue-purple plumage are garrulous as they preen amongst the reeds. My favourite is the lily-trotter or the bronze-winged jacana; because of its long legs and long toes, it can actually walk on broad leaves. The males are admirable as they single-handedly bring up the chicks.

The cynosure of all eyes in the past has been the Siberian crane, a migrant visitor. Over the years from flocks comprising of a couple of hundred, their numbers have been dwindling to two or three and possibly none at all. These birds are dying out in their breeding grounds because of loss of habitat. There is an egg hatching and breeding programme in the park. The idea is to release them into the wild once they are a year old. The project is not easy and success is still a hard road up. A prayer in the Keoladeo temple for these cranes and the other winged creatures of the park is very apt.

For noisy antics and discordant trumpeting walk deeper down the metalled road that runs through the park and see the geese grazing on the flats. Collectively called rajhans, they are bar-headed and greylag geese… icans are a treat to watch as the group fishes in a horseshoe formation. They tighten the circle, closing in on the fish and then scoop them up in their pouches under the beak.

Each vista unfolds with its own tableau as you walk along the central road or the offshoots that go in different directions. Only some parts of the sanctuary are open to visitors. Apart from the birds there are some lazy pythons sunning themselves in a few hidden spots. Look out for the turtles when they come out to sunbathe on outcrops in the tals.

For aerial derring – do watch out for fishing eagles, marsh harriers, buzzards, falcons and kestrels. Their talons and beaks and radar eyes make them ruthless hunters. Owls and owlets of different types are to be seen. I love the ridiculous way in which spotted owlets stretch their necks and bob their heads up and down when they are suspicious. But all said and done the birds of Bharatpur are nonchalant as they are used to visitors gaping at them.

A boat poled along gondola fashion can be hired a little way from the entrance gate. Only a smallish area can be traversed by them, but it is well worth it to be in the water where the action is. My favourite early morning boat ride is along a narrow strip of water bodered on either side by overhanging tamarisk bushes. Every bush is alive with kingfishers, the emerald, the white breasted. They dive around in a flurry of turquoise and chestnut feathers looking for fish and insects. For a few moments, I am in an enchanted land.