Black Drongo: The Ventriloquist in the Vicinity

The rains had just stopped on an early August evening in 2023, and the green space outside my balcony looked lush. The red-whiskered bulbuls, tailorbirds, and the white-eyes that had taken shelter in the rain were back to action until they retired for the day and brought my attention to the chirps and cacophony on the fruiting neem tree next door. However, a quick succession of strange “meows” alerted me. Although it sounded like a cat, I was not wholly convinced, as I had not seen any cat roaming around, so I pursued the source.

A sudden movement on the internet wire made me shift my attention and left me in splits. It was a group of three black drongos (Dicrurus macrocercus) swaying back and forth on the wire next to my building, producing the meows one by one. These glossy black birds with their distinctive forked tails are common residents of open areas across much of India. My gaze then carried on to the far end of the wire, which led to a window where an orange tabby sat. The drongos were clearly teasing the cat! And I imagine the cat must have felt an intense (unfulfilled) urge to strike a paw. What surprised and humoured me was the vocal repertoire of these birds and how urban spaces allowed them to adapt in different ways.

Globally, there are 28 species of drongos (Family: Dicruridae), and India is home to nine. Among them, the greater racket-tailed drongo (Dicrurus paradiseus) is celebrated for its vocal mimicry. A study on these birds in the BR Hills in southeastern Karnataka flaunts their vocal versatility — they can mimic nearly 35 species of birds, three mammals, two frogs, and an insect. But do all drongo species mimic? While black drongos reportedly mimic some birds, can urban spaces and sounds alter their vocal repertoire?

My rendezvous with the neighbouring drongo piqued my interest in observing the birds around me and allowed me to draw upon my experiences with these birds in other places. In March 2025, I encountered a pair of black drongos imitating a group of common mynas (Acridotheres tristis) which were hopping and feeding on the ground. The startled mynas flew off, and the drongos descended to catch insects, then perched on the nearby neem tree to relish them. Studies on fork-tailed drongos (Dicrurus adsimilis) in Africa have observed them using deceptive mimicked alarm calls to steal food. Playback experiments have revealed how these birds have deceived species like pied babblers and meerkats.

In the 2025 Campus Bird Count at the Manipal Academy of Higher Education in Bangalore, our birding group observed a pair of black drongos imitating an Indian golden oriole (Oriolus kundoo, a winter migrant in south India) while sitting on a branch and then suddenly shifting to a different concoction of sounds, leaving us baffled as to which bird they were trying to copy. I have seen black drongos and ashy drongos (Dicrurus leucophaeus), again a winter migrant to southern India, mimic shikras (Accipiter badius), a small bird of prey and common urban predator in the neighbourhood. During one of my daily walks with my dog, I encountered one black drongo getting a flock of red-whiskered bulbuls agitated by mimicking a shikra call. In another incident, a shikra and a drongo were a few trees apart, and the drongo continued to imitate the shikra even after it flew away.

Drongos exhibit fierce protective behaviour (which is why they’re sometimes called kotwal chidiya), often mobbing birds and even mammals significantly larger than themselves — a common trait of birds in the Dicruridae family. During the pandemic, a pair of black drongos had found refuge to raise their young on a pongam tree next to a friend’s balcony. The pair were devoted to their young and furiously protecting the nest. I witnessed an incident where the pair went into a mobbing frenzy with repeated dives and loud calls when a large-billed crow (Corvus macrorhynchos) tried to make a quick snack of their chick. The mobbing frenzy continued until they thwarted the invader’s attempts and drove it away.

Drongos are largely insectivorous birds and have often been observed in mixed-species flocks. While their typical foraging behaviour involves “sallying” (catching prey in the air and returning to a nearby perch), they’ve also evolved opportunistic strategies. During my field days in Kachchh (Kutch, Gujarat), I observed black drongos sitting on poles like sentinels and following bevvies of larks. As the larks flew and flushed out insects from the ground, the drongos would sally from their perches to intercept them, efficiently filling their bellies without having to make the effort themselves.

While black drongos may be one of the more adaptable bird species, cities bring in several unique dynamics to their behaviour. I have observed them being active as late as 10 pm. They hover over billboards and streetlights that attract insects, and it’s remarkable to watch how they circle these lights and deftly catch their prey. Drongos are known to be crepuscular, typically being among the first birds active in the morning and last to retire in the evening. However, hunting around artificial light could indicate opportunistic feeding behaviour (taking advantage of concentrated insect activity near artificial light sources) and points to the ability to change how and when they hunt (within their normal physiological constraints). These features could be a potential adaptation to urban environments.

Urban spaces may offer a range of challenges to birds. Finding adequate resources in the form of food, nesting habitats, and mates can be challenging, even for adaptable species like the black drongo. Urban green spaces are constantly being converted to meet human needs, and such decisions inevitably impact even the most common species. The lights that brighten spaces around us can harm birds, and some studies corroborate this. Cities also have different soundscapes, and birds living in urban areas must adapt to them, especially when looking for mates. With so many challenges in urban environments, how do birds living in these spaces adapt? Perhaps some of these questions can only be answered when we start thinking of cities as important habitats for research.