Birdsong: Nature’s Streaming Music

Birdsong at Bhopal

Nau-tapa, the nine days of fiery summer, is not yet over and Bhopal is burning. Last evening, I watered the plants in the garden and sprayed on the thick hedge to hydrate the wilting leaves. A few minutes later, I heard from my study the thrilled twitter of birds. A pair of Magpie-Robin sang and danced spreading their tiny wings to catch the intermittent droplets of water from the leaves. What was their song? Come, one and all, the rain has arrived well before time. Slake your thirst, take a shower, play a while in the cool chambers of the hedge. Come, savour this welcome gift from the skies.

Do you listen to birdsong? I do. I am not a member of the local Laughter Club, disinclined as I am to amuse puzzled onlookers with raucous, forced laughter in public place. I do not walk with the group of senior citizens who walk less and shout more, vehemently arguing for and against a political party or leader, reiterating the very same vitriolic diatribe they heard on the TV last night and slept poorly as a result. I do not take my smartphone for a walk since no doctor has suggested that such walk may add to its lifespan.

Birdsong provides soothing background music for my favourite ‘me’ time, unhindered by the list of errands for the day that spouse would have ready upon my return: call for a water tanker since the Nagar Nigam supply is a dribble, the plumber to fix the leaking faucet in the toilet and the blockage in the kitchen sink, the AC Service franchisee to check the AC (not cooling enough), the fridge repair guy to check the fridge (not cooling enough). Nau-tapa is here, damn it, everything is hotter than usual including the temper, and the gadgets are near end of life!

In our house, several pigeons have their nests on the window awnings high above on the southern wall, a magpie-robin couple lives inside the hollow of a clay elephant on the terrace, and a few purple sunbirds have their tiny nests in the thick hedge. Since we share our house with these avian friends, we are offered complimentary wake-up song about 4.00 AM, though the pigeons sing in all seasons and hours except when they are away to find food.

This morning, even before drawing open the curtains, I could hear pigeons, sunbirds, koels, and doves; and when I heard a long trilling note, I knew a guest from across the seasonal stream had dropped in for a visit- the White-throated Kingfisher often seen on a tree on the west bank, or on the neem tree on the east providing her a bird’s eye-view of the waterbody and spurring her to take flight and dive with speed and accuracy whenever she noticed a meal swimming.

As I step out of home, I hear Black-winged Stilts (long legs look ungainly but help in wading in shallow water) feeding at the putrid, open-to-air sewerage pool that we call a lake (the height of euphemism!), and a few Grey Hornbills on top of the Maha-Neem (Melia azedarach Linn) tree to the right. From the swamp surrounding the little islet near the Hanuman temple, I hear swifts, grey herons, pond herons, egrets, little cormorants, quails, and others. Upon reaching the little open ground around the tall water supply tower, I hear a few koels singing intermittently from the lush green cover of neem trees. The Magpie-Robins, Mynas, Drongos, Pied Bush Chats, Indian Ring Doves, Spotted Doves, Bulbuls, and Pigeons are all there. A few Rose-ringed parakeets fly past with a pair or two landing on the trees for a while.  

The squirrels, wannabe singers, join in the chorus. Tweet…Tweet…Tweet… Tweet… Tweet; we, too, can sing, they say. Look, our notes are not too different from yours. Maybe, they recall their distant family members who can fly; and aspire to be both terrestrial and avian. One of their ancestors had a role in building the bridge that took Rama to Lanka to kill the demon. Why shouldn’t they be proud of their distinguished lineage and be ambitious?

Last winter, I had seen a pair of beautiful birds with a crest on their head enjoying their morning breakfast of worms and insects in the field; back at home I looked up ebird.org to learn their name: Eurasian Hoopoes.

State bird of Madhya Pradesh: “Dudhraj” - the Asian Paradise Flycatcher (Terpsiphone paradise); Image Source - Wikimedia Commons

The Symphony

Koel, the self-conscious star, sings with elan at a pitch way higher than others- a series of calls: coo-coo-coo repeated 6/8/10/12 times depending on his mood. The female koel is possibly busy scouting for a decent nest she can borrow to lay her eggs; so, the male sings time and again, ‘Here I am, Sweetheart, pouring out my everlasting love for you, but where are you? Come and listen, for only I have mastered the Pancham Raga!’

As the koel coos, the Red Wattled birds (Tittahari) poke fun by asking ‘who-did-it, who-did-it, who-did-it’ as though they didn’t know the singer at all!

The koel’s song doesn’t bother or deter other singers for they, too, are members of the open-for-all orchestra, and the symphony is created only when each of them joins in with their own voice and instrument when their time comes. They seem to delight in creating ever new symphonies with dexterous and unpremeditated mix of low and high notes – bass, baritone, treble…. treble, bass, baritone, and other permutations and pitches. Are they singing in a variety of ragas?

Birdsong in Village

Crows and house sparrows were ubiquitous in my village. If a crow cawed from the front porch of a house, it was a signal and early warning for the family that a guest would arrive the same day or soon enough; if an owl hooted from the house-top at night, it was feared that a member of the family might fall ill or even die soon.

In the backyard, parrots fed noisily on the ber and guava trees, and Greater Coucal (Crow Pheasant or Bhardwaj), the shy bird with a weak flight, made its brief signature call before ducking for cover. Stilts rested a while on the trees before proceeding to the many ponds in and around the village.

Mai Tiar (not the real name, but a sobriquet meaning ‘the Gay shopkeeper’), the eunuch who ran a petty kirana shop in Upar Para, had in two cages a pair of Teetaars and a pair of Bulbuls, who would chatter noisily and non-stop as soon as a buyer cribbed about the high prices and small portions the shopkeeper offered. Maybe, she had trained the birds for this purpose.

Birds were not alone, even the gecko on the wall sang its little song occasionally. When Grandma told tall tales of her father’s immense wealth and her luxurious, pampered childhood to the motley group of neighbours and hired workers who had assembled on a summer afternoon to break tol (the Mahua oilseed), sometimes the gecko would tweet ‘sat…sat…sat’; grandma would thank the gecko for vindicating her narrative, and continue the story.

Mythical Birds

What a pity that we spare little thought now for our avian friends, many of them revered in our epics. They are celestial vahanas – Garuda for Vishnu, Owl for Lakshmi, Swan for Brahma and Saraswati, and Peacock for Kartikeya.

Jatayu fought against Ravana even though he knew he was no match for the powerful asura and would die in battle. Valmiki was so deeply moved upon hearing the piteous calls of the krouncha (possibly Sarus Cranes who partner for life) female bird whose partner had been shot dead by a nishada that the Adi Kavi composed the first-ever shloka and went ahead to compose the Ramayana, our enduring epic.[i]

Named Kakabhusundi for his razor-sharp wit (bhusundi is a long and pointed spear), he was a learned man born a crow under a curse, and was an authority on the scriptures and righteous living. He was immortal but chose to remain a crow forever to delight in the company of playful Ram Lalla at Ayodhya in every Tretaya yuga, which recurs in every Kalpa.

Dharma Vaka delivered a crucial life-lesson to Yudhisthira before reviving his dead brothers. Was Vakasura, the demon killed by Krishna, a bird dinosaur?

Birds of India

India is home to 1,353 bird species, which represents approximately 12.40% of global bird diversity. Of these 1,353 bird species, 78 (5%) are endemic to the country.

(Stamp of India, 2006, Government of India)

Nature’s Symphony

Next time when you step out for your walk, leave behind your phone and earbuds at home, and enjoy the soothing, relaxing music all around you, free streaming service from Nature’s Music Channel. Recommended Album: Birdsong, Playlist: Several accomplished Singers with a few Guest Artists joining in occasionally, Mode: Shuffle, Sound: Stereophonic.

Step out of your home about 5.00 AM to enjoy the Premium Version; only a Basic version is played for those who go out later!

Once you know your avian neighbours a little better, hear a song and know without looking up the singer behind the voice, you may enjoy your walk even more.

Resources

1. Birds of India, Bangladesh, Nepal, Pakistan and Shri Lanka: A Photographic Guide by Bikram Grewal, Sunjoy Monga & Gillian Wright
2. Zoological Survey of India
3. Vanviharnationalpark.org
4. Ebird.org

Postscript

25/06/24

Today, during my morning walk, I spotted a koel on a tree without a single leaf. Why didn't she perch on the trees nearby with dense foliage? Why has she come out of her hiding, I wondered? She perched there and cooed for ten minutes, and thereafter crouched and cooed more insistently for several minutes. 

What was her song? Was she just exasperated, and asking her consort: Haven't you yet located a proper nest? How much longer must I wait? The rains have arrived, and it's time for me to lay eggs.

Is that why she sat on a bald tree, to be visible incase her mate had gone deaf?

From a Reader

Mrs Archana Bagchi, an affectionate elder shared her birdsong:

"Prasanna. I thoroghly enjoyed yr blog on bird music.I hear some of them everyday while havng my morning tea in the garden..yes often the squirrels join the chorous. A pair of bulbuls live on the Ashoka trees...often they share a few fruits with me. Keep up yr zeal for  writing. All the best."

Thanks, Ma'am for sharing this. Regards.

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[i] Death of a very small bird in modern times had a similar positive outcome. During his adolescent years, Salim Ali once visited the office of the Bombay Natural History Society (BNHS) for identification of a strange bird he had shot. Mr. Millard, the Honorary Secretary, took one look and identified it as a Yellow-throated Sparrow. That visit got Salim Ali interested in birds, and in due course he became the Birdman of India.