Art Expedition: On the Trail of the Great Indian Bustard

Every breeding season, the great Indian bustard (GIB) puts on a grand show. The male, in his flamboyant attire, fluffs his neck feathers, dangles his long gular pouch (throat sac), cocks his tail, and struts confidently for the female’s viewing pleasure. Females that circle this territory choose and mate with the best performer. I have been keen on documenting this spectacular annual affair. Finally, in August 2022, I embarked on an art expedition to observe and sketch the bird in Rajasthan’s Desert National Park. Because of its falling numbers — less than 150 GIBs survive in the wild — this intimate courtship behaviour has become rarer to spot and crucial for survival.

Ever since I heard of the bustard’s dwindling numbers, the bird has captured my imagination. Since 2011 the GIB has been on the International Union for Conservation of Nature’s (IUCN) Red List as “critically endangered”. Its grassland habitat has been lost to intensive agriculture and unchecked development. The bird has also been hunted. I have desperately followed news articles about it and wondered: As a wildlife artist could I do something to raise awareness about the bird? Could I use art as a medium to help shine a light on its plight? I was excited to go on the expedition but also carried fear and doubt. I had never seen the bustard. The bird is shy and is usually only seen at a distance. Given its dwindling status, there was a good chance I wouldn’t spot it at all. But I had dreamt about this project for long and was ready to take on the challenge.

The Great Indian Bustard’s Grassland Habitat

Desert National Park and its peripheral areas are large flat expanses of scrubby grassland dotted with ber, kheep, and kair shrubs and a few khejri trees. In August, the landscape was still green at the tail end of the monsoon. Sewan (Lasiurus sindicus), a tall grass the bustards and many other species favour, swayed in the breeze. In the vastness of the grassy landscape, the bird looked like a tiny speck. However, when the chinkara crossed by, I could get a sense of how big bird actually is — almost four feet tall! At a distance, near a small hillock, a row of windmills dotted the horizon. Several birds, including the bustards, collide with these giant turbines and are killed or severely injured.

  

Other Desert Denizens

Besides the bustard, I wanted to capture its habitat and the other creatures that live there. Every time I started a sketch, I had no clue if the animal would stay in the same position, but I observed closely and started sketching nonetheless. My optimism was occasionally rewarded - the laggar falcon, for instance, was a brilliant poser and stayed still for 30 minutes. The zipping blue-cheeked bee-eaters, however, were a different story. I stopped sketching when they flew off and resumed when they flew off and resumed when they returned.

When I first saw the brilliant agama, it looked like an ordinary brown lizard resting on the branch of a kair tree. I wondered why it was called the “brilliant” agama. Soon enough, I had my answer as I watched its underside transform into a bright blue and its tail turn orange. During the breeding season, it changes from brown and green to a combination of yellow, red, blue, and orange to attract females.

An Expedition to Remember

Radheshyam was an excellent guide and companion. He would watch me pull out my sketching gear, help me set up the tripod and birding scope, and patiently wait for me to finish my drawings. One day, when I returned to the jeep, he was sitting with a book and pen. I asked him if he was writing something, and he turned his page towards me and showed me a little bustard he had drawn! I exclaimed with joy. He said this was the first time he had tried sketching anything.

People are often intimidated by art. They think it needs to be perfect, but art is one of the most harmonious mediums that could help bridge the gap between nature and humankind. For the artist in me, this expedition was a challenge, an adrenaline rush, a confidence booster, and, most importantly, a direct encounter with a critically endangered species. If my nature journals can introduce this charming species to the viewer, instil a sense of wonder, and imbibe even a little respect and responsibility to safeguard their habitat, I will have achieved what I set out to do.

— as told to Radhika Raj