Dance of Life:
Koels, Cobras, and Sparrows

Why juxtapose the songbird with a deadly serpent and a homely sparrow? Read on to find out.

A Pair of Koels

The other day I spotted a koel crouching on the neem tree in front of our house acting rather funny extending its beak and then retracting it repeatedly. Why would the bird do that, I wondered, and looked again. A few inches below and nearly hidden behind a luxuriant branch was a bigger koel, certainly the male, mirroring his partner’s movement. Is that a courtship dance? I had no idea. Koel is a shy, secretive bird, rarely seen out in the open, most reluctant to feed on the ground or perch on electric poles and wires - the preferred perching sites for more self-confident birds like the little sunbird, the magpie robins, bulbuls, doves, mynas, drongos, and pigeons.

Why are koels so shy? Are they embarrassed at their homelessness (koel, a brood parasite, never builds a nest) and for furtively placing their eggs in a host’s nest, outsourcing the task of raising kids to other unsuspecting birds?

What a privilege to watch a pair of koels consummating their love? I kept looking, suspending my morning exercise – exercise can wait, but the amorous play might climax and end soon. But, the beaking (akin to necking for larger animals) continued for several minutes. No sign of further progress. Then she stopped her beak dance. Why, what happened? The male was no longer seen. Was he tired and frustrated? Did the lady play too-hard-to-get, difficult-to-please; or did he fall short of her high standards for a proper mate? Before flying off, did the male say, ‘Call me if you change your mind.’?

I felt sorry for the male. He had been very patient, but that had not helped. Did he go looking for a more willing female? But why is the female still there? She stayed put at the same spot at the same branch, as though in deep meditation. Not a feather twitched, nor a leg moved. After fifteen minutes, she was still there. Is she asleep, or merely crest-fallen at hastily dismissing a potential suitor? I walked up to the terrace for a better view, with my phone-camera in hand. The female was rooted at her spot, and the male a little below her on another branch but completely hidden behind a thick foliage. He, too, was immobile. A few motorcycles and cars sped past honking their horns even though the street was empty, but the pair of lovers was unperturbed and unfazed.

(A Pair of Koels on a neem tree at Baghmugaliya Extension, Bhopal; photo by the blogger on his smartphone)

Why are they at kissing distance, oblivious of the outside world, yet doing nothing? Are they engaged in after-sex chat, discussing the strategy to locate a host bird’s nest; or are they enjoying a post-breakfast siesta after nibbling a few ripe nimbolis?[i]

The love birds stayed perched at the neem tree on the same branch for nearly an hour. I shot a few more photos and videos.

Later, I Googled about the mating and breeding behaviour of koels to learn of their clever, concerted action. Once the male spots a potential host bird’s nest ideal for the female to lay her eggs, he calls her to inspect and approve. Thereafter, the male hops and jumps to annoy the resident bird - a crow, starling, magpie, or even an aggressive drongo. When the male comes too near the nest, the home owner protests angrily and chases him away during which the female sneaks in and quickly lays her eggs in the vacant, unguarded nest, sometimes eating one or more of the owner’s eggs or merely pushing them away to crash on the ground. Upon return from the successful chase, the owner finds her nest in order, and all her eggs in place; satisfied, she begins hatching.

Kalidasa, too, had observed the enchanting mating dance of koels:

“Drunk on the honey of mango blossoms,

The koel rapturously kisses his mate ….

(Rtusamharam, Spring, Canto 6-14)*

Mating Dance

Our colony atop a rocky terrain abuts a little stream and a swamp. It is no surprise that snakes are sighted occasionally and during the breeding season baby snakes sometimes stray into the gardens and porches. This morning, a neighbour alerted us about a mongoose entering our garden. Was it chasing a snake? I issued an advisory to keep shut all doors opening to the garden and the backyard; but know it would be ignored.

Several vacant plots with shrubs and weeds provide perfect cover for reptiles. A few years ago, the Forest department had rescued a baby python who had strayed unto the metal road and forgot the path to return home. Link for my previous blog ‘A Python’s Plight’: https://pkdash-author.blogspot.com/2022/11/a-puzzled-python.html

Ashok Ratnaparkhe, a neighbour has seen many times a pair of mature cobras on the vacant plot adjoining his house. Fenced with a small gate locked by the owner, the plot is out of bounds for men and animals and a haven for the cobra couple who contain the rodent population in the area including the fat rats captured by folks at their home with mouse-traps and released on the east bank of the abandoned Laharpur Dam since they won’t commit paap of hurting Ganesha’s vahana, unaware that they are offering wholesome meals for Shiva’s pets!

A few months ago, Mr Sharma had seen the pair of cobras mating on the little clearing in front of Ashok’s home, so engrossed in love-duet that they completely ignored the man walking a large dog and struggling to restrain his alarmed pet from approaching the amorous serpents.

What time was it? I asked.

8.30 PM. It was chilly and there was no traffic on this road.

It is said to be a lucky sight, I said.

During my schooldays, I had read ‘Secret Magic Remedies,’ (not in my syllabus!) a book by an anonymous author which recommended that if you sight a pair of cobras making love, spread your towel near them and if they happen to roll over the towel during their passionate act, wait till their departure, pick up the towel and keep it as a treasure. This is your magic towel which would win any adverse litigation proceedings and guarantee victory against your enemies regardless of how powerful they might be.

I was a little child, and though kutti with Thabira, my classmate and neighbour after a quarrel over who had cheated in a game of glass marbles, I was most unlikely to go near mating serpents with a towel in hand. I had no ongoing litigation either.

I wished to tell Mr Sharma about all these wondrous opportunities he had missed for want of carrying a towel while walking his Alsatian; but his dog had other priorities and they had proceeded on the walk.

Sparrows at School

Our math teacher in high school was tough, a disciplinarian, unsmiling, and quick to punish us for not finishing homework or other minor faults. We maintained strict silence in his class and never dared pass slips and notes to neighbours to be relayed all the way to the backbenches. One day, while he was explaining a complex formula and scribbling the numbers on the blackboard with his back to the class, there began a muffled giggle which soon became a little wave rippling through the room, upon which the stern teacher turned around and demanded to know from the student who was giggling the loudest what was so funny about the formula on the blackboard. Come and explain it to the class, he ordered. The student went up to the blackboard, stared at the numbers in utter incomprehension, darted a look at the window, and giggled again, more loudly than before. The teacher looked at the window, and saw what the students had been seeing for the last several minutes. A pair of house-sparrows in a charming courtship dance and making love, again and again, unconcerned with the voyeurism and titillation of the adolescent boys. Maybe, the little birds were imparting sex education which the school didn’t.

Our teacher was dark-skinned, couldn’t get red in the face, but ordered us to ‘Stand Up’ on our benches for the remainder of the period and went out of the class in a huff.

***

Resources

·      CornellLab: Birds of the World (birdsoftheworld.org)

·      Ebird.org

·      Birdwatchingtoday.com

·      Animalia.bio

 

Comments by Readers

C.P. Singh

This blog straightaway took me to the life and times of Emperor Jahangir and his passionate habit of watching and observing the most natural mating behaviour of birds and animals. In "Tuzuk e Jahangiri", a sort of autobiography, he has described their mating behaviour as vividly as you have. Of course, his interests were a little more intense, and in bigger animals – elephants, horses, etc.

Truly a wonderful, vivid and lucid description of a matter to which not many of us would have paid much attention.

Thanx, indeed, for sharing your enjoyable blog.

(I found in archive.org 'The Jahangirnama: Memoirs of Jahangir, Emperor of India,' Translated, edited, and annotated by Wheeler M. Thackston, Published by OUP, 1999. Borrowed it for an hour and browsed, hope to read it sometime.)

---

[i] Nimbolis (Hindi) are golden yellow ripe neem fruits with a bitter-sweet pulp covering the seed, the neem tree’s clever evolutionary strategy to get the birds and squirrels to feast on the fruit and spread the seeds all over for propagation of a new generation of neem trees!

*The Complete Works of Kalidasa, Volume One: Poems; Translated by Chandra Rajan, Sahitya Akademy (First Edition-1997)