Hoping for a better tomorrow

The Great Indian Bustard (Ardeotis nigriceps) is a large and mostly terrestrial bird that is found in India and adjoining regions of Pakistan. It is a large bird with long legs, which looks very much like an Ostrich.

It is among the heaviest of the flying birds. It has a brown body with a distinct black cap on its head. These birds prefer open, grassy plains for nesting, roosting, breeding display, and foraging. They are omnivorous feed on insects, lizards, frogs, small rodents, seeds, small fruit, etc.

The Great Indian Bustard which is now the State Bird of Rajasthan was almost made the National Bird of India, but finally the Peacock took the coveted spot.

It is a critically endangered species with less than 250 individuals left in India. The biggest threat to this species is hunting and poaching, collisions with high tension electric wires, use of pesticides, fast moving vehicles and free-ranging dogs in villages. Other threats include habitat loss and alteration as a result of widespread agricultural expansion and mechanized farming, infrastructural development such as irrigation, roads and industrialization.

Tribal Bhils are claimed to have used a technique for trapping females that involves setting twigs on fire around the nest containing an egg or chick. The female is then said to run to the nest and singe its wings upon which the tribals capture it. This bird cannot be bred in captivity, which is why conservation of its habitat is necessary to prevent it from becoming extinct.

It was dawn, and the vast grassland in Madhya Pradesh was filled with the calls of the Great Indian Bustards. Gauri, a female Great Indian Bustard bird, gingerly got up from her resting place- which was just a burrowed patch in the ground- and peered around.

Her brown coloured body blended into the brown background of the dry scrubland, but the black cap on her head stood out distinctly. With her long legs and long neck she looked graceful and elegant, despite her heavy body.

She flapped her wings and stretched. Bustards were ground birds who didn’t like to fly much. She was especially wary of flying after she had found her mate, Gopi, hanging dead one day, from a black cord that stretched across upright poles. The other birds had told her that those were electricity lines that humans had put up, and that Gopi must have flown too close to them or got entangled in the lines. Gauri hadn’t even been able to mourn over his dead carcass, as some humans had come and taken it away.

Gopi’s death had come as a shock to Gauri. As a bustard, or Kharchal, as they were called in the local language, she knew that their lives were uncertain. Many of their kind had been hunted down for meat. There was a famous story that had been handed down generation after generation of bustards, of how the Mughal Emperor Babur, had once eaten the meat of a Great Indian Bustard, and remarked that “The flesh of the leg of some fowls, and of the breast of others is excellent; but the flesh of every part of the Kharchal is delicious.” Some bustards thought it a great compliment, but Gauri had felt it was an irresponsible statement from a person like the Emperor. The fact that he had enjoyed the meat not only showed that the Bustard made for a royal delicacy, but also paved way for people to kill more of the bustards with impunity. Why couldn’t they receive protection from the ruler too, thought Gauri bitterly. Were they not subjects of his kingdom as well? Didn’t birds deserve the same protection and the right to live and survive just like humans?

But the damage had been done, and hunting of Bustards had steadily increased. There was a drastic decrease in the number of birds surviving, and that the Bustards laid only one egg a year did not help matters. Other birds which laid four or five eggs in a clutch had better chances of surviving.

When India became independent, Gauri’s parents had hoped that the Great Indian Bustard might be made the National Bird. The troupe of peacocks living nearby had however, wagered that they would win the title. For several days, the Bustards and the Peacocks were at loggerheads with each other. It was quite a disappointment for the Bustard when the peacock walked away with the title of India’s National Bird. For many days to come, they had to put up with the peacocks strutting around haughtily, with their colourful plumage spread out, gloating over their victory. Now nobody could touch them. The bustards on the other hand, were back to being vulnerable as before.

However, all this knowledge about the precarious position of their species had not prepared Gauri for the loss of her mate. It seemed to be a challenge to stay alive each day. She often wondered if staying alive was worth all the trouble. But the only thing that kept her alive lay underneath her on the ground, in a furrow— a single, brown egg. She waited impatiently for the day it would hatch and her young one would emerge. She was careful not to wander too far from her nest, and focussed all her attention on the egg. So that morning, when a bird came to tell her about her friend Kamla who had fallen terribly sick in the fields, Gauri felt hesitant to go.

“She’s screaming in agony”, said the bird. “She says she wants to see all those who are dear to her before she dies.”

Gauri was a little sceptical. Kamla had always been a bit of a drama queen. “Are you really sure she’s sick?” she said to the bird. “As far as I know, she can create a mountain out of a molehill.” She paused. “And I don’t want to leave my egg unprotected here.”

“It’s not very far from here”, said the other bird, “and she really wants to see you.”

Gauri was worried, but decided to go. She had a look at her egg, which looked ready to hatch any moment. She did not have the heart to leave it unguarded, but she was not heartless enough to ignore her friend’s dying request either. The egg seemed well camouflaged, with tufts of grass around the furrow hiding it. She had chosen the area after ensuring that it was not one frequented by humans. Saying a silent prayer, she took flight to the fields.

When she reached Kamla, she found many other birds already there, all of them talking among themselves. Kamla seemed to be in severe agony, and it really looked like she was about to die. Gauri was startled to see her boisterous friend doubled up in pain, nearing her death. “Kamla, what’s all this? How did you get so sick?”

“Gauri, you’ve come”, Kamla breathed heavily, hardly able to speak. “I think we will all die soon Gauri… there are hardly any of us left… and these humans seem bent on killing us all...”

“But how did you become so sick?” Gauri repeated.

“Poison… on the plants” said Kamla, pointing to fields.

“We think they have sprayed pesticides on these plants”, said a bird standing close by.

“I heard that two birds died last week after eating these same plants”, said another.

“Be careful Gauri…” said Kamla again. “Take care of your little one when she comes into this world.”

A few moments later, Kamla breathed her last.

Gauri and the other birds dispersed soon after. Tears streamed down her face as she flew back to her nest. She hoped that her little one would have a fair chance to survive in the cruel world.

As she came nearer to her nest, she saw flames rising from the ground. And it was right where her nest was! Blind with worry, she made a quick landing and charged towards her nest. The furrow, where she had hidden her egg, was enveloped in flames. She rushed right into the fire, trying to put out the flames with her wings. “My egg! My baby!” she cried, unmindful of the fire singeing her wings and burning her feathers.

Before she could realise what was happening, strong human hands caught her from behind. So occupied had she been in dousing the flames, that she did not notice the humans creeping up behind her.

“This bird will make a good feast today”, remarked one, as he tied up her legs. “It seems quite heavy— should be enough for the whole tribe”, said another.

As they carried her away, Gauri realized they had laid a trap for her and that she would soon meet her death. Wondering if the humans had taken her egg as well, or if it had perished in the fire, she craned her neck for a last look at her nest. She saw that her egg had rolled away onto a soft mound of mud beside the rows of grass, unharmed from the fire, and beginning to crack. It looked like her baby was going to hatch. Her heart filled with a strange mixture of joy and sadness as she saw her baby hatching. As she prepared to meet her own fate, she fervently wished her baby would have a chance at life.

By: Sneha Verghese is a research scholar in Journalism at Osmania University, Hyderabad. Also a post-graduate in biotechnology, she loves teaching and writing stories for kids to explain scientific concepts.