Book review: 'Of Birds And Birdsong'

Book: Of Birds And Birdsong
M Krishnan
Edited by Shanthi and Ashish Chandola
Aleph Books
328 pages
Rs595

My mother and my five-year-old nephew have a morning ritual. As soon as he wakes up, he trots to the ledge of his bedroom window. His grandmother then opens the window and leaves grains on the window sill. The hush is broken by the flapping of wings as a company of rose-ringed parakeets stop by for breakfast. The blur of emerald green feathers and sharp ruby-red beaks is punctuated by demanding squawks. Often, tiny brown sparrows sneak through to steal a little snack from the parakeets.

My nephew has an insatiable appetite for bird trivia and I’m the one to whom his questions are directed. Thanks to M Krishnan, I’m now equal to the task. My nephew knows, among other things, that the parakeet is a “Jekyll-and-Hyde bird”, a pest to agriculture and yet a remarkably tidy and delicate pet; and a healthy parakeet perches on one foot.

These are just some of the nuggets that make up Aleph’s Of Birds And Birdsong, an anthology of stories by legendary M Krishnan about avian beauties. Editors Shanthi and Ashish Chandola have compiled a selection of Krishnan’s writings from various publications. The result is a beautiful tribute, not only to one of India’s finest naturalists but also to his muses — the birds that fascinated him. Photographer EP Gee described Krishnan (1912-1996) as “a bit of a ‘lone wolf’ [who] does not care for meetings or advisory boards, but as a naturalist he has no equal”. The editors of this volume agree. He wrote knowledgably about birds and animals, as well as on issues concerning conservation and environment. His stance on indigenous species, environmental education and development are reflected absorbingly in his writings.

Of Birds And Birdsong is a book to which a reader would go back time and again. The stories want to make you want to snatch a pair of binoculars and head to the nearest green spot to go birdwatching. Krishnan introduces readers to the tiniest birds of India, the honey-suckers or sunbirds, noting wryly that the handsome cock bird loses his flamboyant colours after the breeding season is over (a reminder that good looks are fleeting). There are stories of Krishnan travelling through the countryside with only a great grey shrike as his companion. You can’t help but chuckle while reading the delightful tale of an adjutant stork that escaped from a zoo, right under the nose of the superintendent. Krishnan also raises compelling questions by documenting the disappearance of forested areas and its impact on bird life and critiquing the banal designs of urban parks and gardens. His stories, though written years ago, remain relevant.

Krishnan’s prose is filled with beautiful descriptions, humour and a reverence for nature. What makes the book absorbing is that even though some birds, such as the rose-ringed parakeet, make several appearances, no two stories are the same and each instance offers a different insight into a bird’s behaviour. For instance, when travelling by train, it is a common sight to see birds perched on top of railroad wires. Krishnan gives you an entire list of which varieties you’re likely to see and it includes crows, emerald green and turquoise bee-eaters, the roller (it can find prey on land and in air) and even spotted owlets. Of the last he writes, “They may even be heard above the puff of the engine, for they are very noisy after the long day in bed”. Just for that, my nephew now wants to take a train journey.