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| Santosh Bakaya |
This bird-watching paradise, also called the Keoladeo National Park, Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary, Rajasthan, is a UNESCO World Heritage Site, popular for its biodiversity; its wetlands are a refuge for hundreds of migratory birds. Spread over 29 sq. km, it is home to over 375 bird species
[or, maybe more] and other wildlife. Nature enthusiasts and ornithologists from all over the world flock excitedly to this eco-haven, hoping to catch a glimpse of some rare birds.
There was a time, many years ago, when the Siberian Cranes attracted tourists from all over the world. However, their numbers gradually dwindled, and ultimately, they vanished altogether.
Since the year 2002, no Siberian crane has been sighted there. This is due to poaching and degradation of the wetlands along the routes of their migration.
The monsoons paint the Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary in beautiful hues, and it glistens anew, surrounded by verdant greenery. This season is also the time for resident birds to breed here, and also a fruitful time for birdwatchers. They can see Sarus cranes and painted storks in abundance, in this wetland, which now resembles a vibrant, multi- hued painting. Mesmerizingly magical!
Fledglings peek out of nests, fascinated by the wet, pulsating world, unspooling around them.
They feel the splash- splash- splash of agile fish, the bounce of butterflies, the rumble of thunder clouds, and the sun peeping from behind dark clouds, cranes balancing themselves on thin branches, and think:
What a beautiful world to be born into!
The fragile fledglings,
the dark clouds with silver linings;
nests alive to the sound of music-
of hungry mouths.
Koels and cuckoos, in fours and twos
create a spell- binding melody
with their endearing coos,
watched by a solitary Graylag Goose.
The leafy boughs yawn luxuriantly,
shake themselves free of the patina of dust,
to shine with a new ardour.
Trust the mother birds to try harder
Harder- harder – harder
to replenish the larder.
Birds in threes and sixes and pairs
create a tumult in the cloudy air.
What can one do but stand and stare?
Ears glued to the high decibel squawks
of hungry chicks and click a painted stork
in the golden rays of the westering sun?
A slothful heron in a languorous flight.
What fun! What delight!
The invisible gardener with the green fingers
lingers near saplings, ecstatically bursting forth
from mounds of earth.
On a slippery mound, sits a robin,
its tiny head bobbin’ up and down,
up and down; recalling its friend
the Glossy Ibis.
He will come in winter again.
But he does so miss the Glossy Ibis!
To ride on his back was sheer bliss!
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