Birds, Beasts, and Other Adventures

Book Published : Nov 28, 2024 Updated : Nov 29, 2024
Asad Rahmani’s memoir Living With Birds is the story of his life. He speaks about studying India’s birds and landscapes, fighting for endangered species and shaping the country’s fledgling conservation movement. Here’s an excerpt.
Birds, Beasts, and Other Adventures
Asad Rahmani’s memoir Living With Birds is the story of his life. He speaks about studying India’s birds and landscapes, fighting for endangered species and shaping the country’s fledgling conservation movement. Here’s an excerpt.

The advertisement seeking applicants for the post of a researcher at BNHS appeared in newspapers on the day of a solar eclipse in 1980. A large number of candidates were called for an interview at the venerable Hornbill House, the headquarters of BNHS, where a formidable interview panel consisting of Dr Sálim Ali, J.C. Daniel, Prof. C.V. Kulkarni, S.A. Hussain, A.N.D. Nanavati, Prof. P.V. Bole, among others, awaited them. This panel could have intimidated anyone, but my interview went very well, since some of them knew of my keen interest in wildlife. In a few weeks, an appointment letter from BNHS appeared in the postbox, and I was summoned to Point Calimere Sanctuary in Tamil Nadu, where our field training was planned. I suspect the selected candidates were called to that remote sanctuary to test their endurance.

The two-day trip by train from Lucknow to Chennai – then an overnight train journey to Thiruthuraipoondi, followed by a bus ride to the sanctuary, 42 km away – left me exhausted. Plus, I was weighed down by my old Remington typewriter, a heavy Russian camera, an equally heavy pair of binoculars and books, in addition to clothes. A warm welcome from P.B. Shekar of BNHS, deputed by J.C. Daniel to make us comfortable, dissipated all the tiredness. We were a mixed group of young researchers, four with PhDs, six or seven with newly acquired MSc degrees and seven or eight with BSc degrees. We were housed in a large building called Subburaman Illam. Dr Sreedhar, a Tamil brahmin and a fellow researcher, who was my age, became a good friend, and inducted me into Tamil customs and cuisine during that Calimere stint.  

Dr Asad Rahmani watching birds through a scope in a grassland habitat in Madhya Pradesh, 1986. Photo courtesy: Ravi Sankaran

At Calimere, we were taught bird ringing by P.B. Shekar, who had been doing it for two decades. Then there was R. Sugathan and S.A. Hussain, also of the BNHS, who came to Point Calimere to teach us bird ringing; Hussain was an old hand on the subject. The first bird I ever ringed was an Oriental Magpie Robin (Copsychus saularis). We were ringing birds under the Bird Migration Project, funded by the USFWS, and were supervised by Hussain, though Dr Sálim Ali was the principal investigator. We also learnt how to carry out bird and vegetation censuses, as part of a rigorous training programme that ran from pre-dawn to post-dusk in the forests and salt pans of Point Calimere. The sanctuary had a population of Blackbuck – the animal on which I wanted to do my PhD – and on Sundays, after washing clothes and writing notes, I would go alone to the sanctuary to watch them. Another pastime was to go to the beach to collect shells; for a person from North India, the sea coast was a great draw.

Also, as a North Indian, I would wear a kurta-pyjama during non-office hours. Once on a hot Sunday afternoon, I heard a racket outside Subburaman Illam – it turned out that a pre-fledged crow had fallen from its nest, causing its parents and their companions to create a commotion. I picked up the injured young bird, intending to place it on a high branch, away from the predatory cats that roamed the neighbourhood. As I was trying to move the young bird, the crows started cawing even more, and worse, they began to dive-bomb me, no doubt reading mala fide motives in my altruistic act. This drew the attention of the people in the sleepy village. Since we were known as paravai-aarvalar (bird lovers), some youngsters came to my rescue. From then on, whenever I stepped out of the house, the cawing and dive-bombing would start. Even when I went to the village, the crows would express their anger vocally – clearly the crow telegraph had flashed the intruder alert most effectively. For the entire period of my stay in Point Calimere, I had to face this ignominy. But it also taught me about the intelligence of crows; because even when I was dressed in a different attire – not the conspicuous white kurta-pyjama – the crows would inflict their annoyance on me. It clearly proved that they could recognize the face, no matter what the disguise! Twenty years later, I returned to Point Calimere as BNHS director – by then, fortunately, a new generation of crows had come up, and I could peacefully walk around the village, reliving my memories, including those that involved being insulted by their ancestors!

  
Dr Asad Rahmani holds a Bengal florican fitted with a satellite tracking device and ready for release in Pilibhit Tiger Reserve, 2014. Photo courtesy: Rohit Jha 

Bombay Natural History Society has a long association with Point Calimere Sanctuary, and its team began ringing birds there as far back as 1969. In the 1980s, BNHS established a field office in Thambuswamy Illam, an old forest rest house, where Dr Sálim Ali stayed when he visited Calimere. The Sanctuary is a field laboratory for BNHS and local colleges, particularly the Anbanathapuram Vahayara Charities (AVC) College of Arts and Sciences, Mayiladuthurai, which started the first MSc wildlife course in India. The Sanctuary has also produced many good scientists, but the finest scientist of the crop is undoubtedly Dr S. Balachandran of BNHS, who has spent most of his career there. He was my colleague for more than 40 years. In 2007, he established a permanent ringing station in Point Calimere, raising funds single-handedly.

But fieldwork is not for everyone. Some of the trainees left within four to five weeks, but more joined us, and continued their journey with BNHS. One of the most impressive additions to our group was a 21-year-old young man who came with a WWF rucksack slung on his back. Ajai Saxena was impressive – having completed his BSc from Allahabad University, he wanted to make a career in wildlife. Ajai picked up wildlife quickly – a trait not seen in some others who also joined BNHS for a job! After three months, a few of us, including Ajai and me, were shifted to Bharatpur, Rajasthan, where we lived in Lal Kothi, given to BNHS by the erstwhile Maharaja. Ajai left BNHS in 1981 to appear for the Indian Forest Service (IFS) exams; as expected, he went on to carve out a successful career in the IFS and retired as the principal chief conservator of forests, Goa, a few years ago.

At Bharatpur’s Keoladeo National Park (KNP), a sanctuary at that time, I worked on the Bird Migration Project for a little more than a year, after which I was shifted to Endangered Species Project. The main focus of the latter was the Great Indian Bustard and Asian Elephant. It was a project that would change my life.

Excerpted with permission from Living with Birds by Asad Rahmani and published by Indian Pitta, Juggernaut.   

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