The next day, I spent two hours around the coconut tree where he had pointed out catching the bird. Seeing a man standing in the strong sun with a camera, the warehouse guard came closer. He said, 'Look, brother, I chase away mischievous boys whenever I see them. I worry they'll take advantage when I'm not here. My job isn't to guard birds, after all. What can I do?' The birds took shelter in a vegetable patch near the warehouse he was guarding on College Road, Biratnagar.
Following the 'Blue-throated Barbet' led me to a new sight. A pair of parrots (Rose-ringed parakeet) also lived there, in a larger hole just above the pair of barbet's nest-like burrow. Seeing me, the parrots didn't enter their nest for a long time. A flock of Jungle Babblers came making noise. They announced the presence of a human-shaped enemy. The parrot squawked, the 'barbet' also squawked. After a while, a Rufous Treepie and a crow also gathered. It was as if they were scolding me, 'What are you doing here? Go away.' The guard called me over. In his small office room, he asked me to sit.
'This is the second time,' the guard, whose last name was Rai, told me. 'Last year, a parrot raised its chicks and they flew away. This time it's back again.' He was suspicious that someone might catch and take the parrots away. Among the half-dozen coconut trees, the one where the birds nested was old and dry, without a top.
After noting down my name and number, the guard said, 'I'll call you if something suitable for a picture happens. I have to work in two places. I'll remember when I'm at this warehouse.' His station was right next to a busy road with hundreds of people. The people who came inside were either there to drop off or pick up goods, drivers, assistants, rickshaw pullers, or warehouse staff or owners. The birds who had been sheltering there for years didn't catch many people's attention. So my inquiry was a strange event for him. He said, 'I must be fifty, and I've only ever seen people raising parrots at home. I'm seeing them nesting and raising chicks here for the first time.'
Some birds that sit on their eggs have strange habits. They eat what the male brings. If the male is hunted by a slingshot, a gun, or caught in a snare, the female's life ends right in the nest. And if pairs with offspring are caught or killed by hunters, the chicks die of starvation.
On the third day, Rai was not at the warehouse gate. Maybe his duty was somewhere else. There was another younger guard in uniform, a little thin and dark-skinned. Rai must have told him about me, so he let me in easily. My subject for the photograph was the same dried-up coconut stump near the north wall of the warehouse compound.
It was noisy, just like the last time I came. The birds were squawking. When I got closer, I saw a white-spotted tabby cat sitting below. Seeing me aim the camera, it hid in the bushes. My intention was not to chase it away. But when I tried to take its picture again, it ran away and didn't reappear.
Nature has balanced the life cycle for all creatures. One becomes food for another. But in this rule, the predators cannot completely wipe out the prey's species. Those who can survive increase their numbers. Human interference can be like that of a common predator in nature for birds. But if the extent of interference increases, the food source of the hunting animals is snatched away, and the birds that try to increase their lineage reach the brink of complete extinction.
P. Gupta from Delhi, India, immediately commented, 'This is against the rules. Delete the photo.' The picture was of a parrot chick peeking out of its nest in a Facebook group for bird lovers called 'Indian Birds,' where he had commented. I didn't argue. I immediately deleted the picture. Then I wrote him an email, 'Pankaj ji, I'm also sensitive about birds. This picture was taken from a distance of about 60 meters. The bird did not know I was there when I took the picture. I took it without disturbing it.' He didn't reply.
These are also special rules that those who take pictures of birds must follow. Hundreds of pictures are uploaded daily in the group. Dozens of comments are written on each picture. The group has also created an open discussion forum for those who do not know the behavior and scientific names of birds. People from various South Asian countries who enjoy taking pictures of birds, despite having other professions, share their pictures here. Many birds do not tolerate human interference.
They may not retaliate, but if they feel disturbed in their nest, they leave. It is impossible for just anyone to raise small chicks and protect eggs. I had not disturbed the parrot. I had captured its activities from a distant, high-rise balcony. I flipped through a book. The bird I had photographed was a 'Rose-ringed Parakeet.' The male has a black-pink ring around its neck, while the female does not. The Helm Fields Guides book mentions that seven types of parrots are found in Nepal. Parrots that like to eat corn bother farmers in hilly village development committees. According to Animal World.com, parrots are found in countries all over the world. So far, 120 species and as many subspecies have been found. Due to their social nature, ability to mimic human voices, and attractive appearance, those who raise them have increased the market for this bird.
Three weeks passed. In the meantime, I also went to Kathmandu for four days and came back. Due to other daily tasks, I got a chance to peek at the parrot's nest much later. I spent another hour standing where the nest was visible. There was no sign of the parrot pair or the chicks.
A nearby tea seller told me that the same boy who had caught the 'kuthurke' had climbed the tree and taken the chicks. After that, the parrots never came back. I asked for the boy's address. There was no definite address; he was said to be living somewhere in Itahari. He had taken them saying he would raise them. The tea seller didn't know for sure whether he raised them or sold them. This bird is not in the protected category. When I took the picture, I remembered the strict rules made by my bird group.
And it occurred to me that those bird parents must have felt as if their small children had been kidnapped. They don't have any authority to file a complaint. It was clear that while some people follow the rules for taking pictures, these rules don't apply to hunters. These days, whenever I pass by, I look at that nest again. The pair has not been seen again. The nest is empty.
(Published in Kantipur Koseli on Saturday, 23rd Asar, 2069)
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