Salim Ali. In the background is a Baya weaver bird amidst nests. Photos: Hari K Patibanda/Flickr (CC BY 2.0) and V. Santharam (CC BY 2.5)
- ‘Words for Birds’, edited by Tara Gandhi, which collects Salim Ali’s radio talks between 1941 and 1985 in the form of 35 essays.
- Ali’s remarkable storytelling brings to the fore exactly why birds are fascinating, drawing the reader in with effortless ease.
- The situation of some species that Ali lists in his talks as being on the verge of extinction, are still as precarious as ever.
Kochi: 6.31-6.41 am, January 31, 2022:
Oriental magpie robin: 1
Common crow: 5
Red wattled lapwing: 2 (courtship behaviour, mobbing waterhen that dared to venture close)
White-breasted waterhen: 1
Red-whiskered bulbul: 2 (occupied nest)
Black drongo: 1
Ashy prinia: 1
Asian openbill: 1 (flyover)
Rufous woodpecker: 2
The above is a sample of what a few minutes in the morning would probably look like, if you’re into watching birds. This one is mine, from Kochi city in Kerala. In those ten minutes, I saw nine bird species, and 16 individuals.
Today, most of such information finds place in digital bird lists, on mobile apps. Tens of thousands of birdwatchers from across India do this. And many of them, everyday. It’s a wealth of data, generating information about even the most common birds in the country.
The first thing that reading Tara Gandhi’s Words for Birds makes you realise is how much birdwatching has changed in India. From being the hobby of a few (and mostly, the privileged), to one that is more organised, and definitely, more talked about. But the popularity of birding is a very recent phenomenon, and primarily thanks to the vast digital world that connects birdwatchers globally, nationally and regionally. That’s also when you realise how communicating about birds must not exactly have been very easy around 60 years ago: there were far fewer birdwatchers then, and far fewer opportunities to spread the word about the fascinating world of birds.
That’s one of the many reasons why Words for Birds, a compilation of radio talks on birds and birdwatching by the legendary Salim Ali – India’s ‘birdman’ as he is fondly called – is, quite simply, a treasure. Here was a famous birdwatcher (who would spend hours in a hide everyday for months to observe busy birds building nests), a natural historian and a skilled storyteller, talking about his experiences, and about India’s birds. The earliest of his 14-minute talks was aired on radio around 60 years ago, at a time when most people would not even have heard about watching birds as a hobby, let alone consider the study of birds as a career.
Author Tara Gandhi, one of Ali’s students, tracked down most of his radio talks between 1941 and 1985 in the archives of the Bombay Natural History Society, Mumbai. The talks find new life, as 35 more-or-less standalone essays of around 1,500 words in Words for Birds. There’s no way a bird enthusiast would have had access to these radio talks otherwise: another reason why Words for Birds is so precious.
“The object of these talks is really to interest listeners, in the first instance for the healthy pleasure and satisfaction bird watching affords rather than for its intrinsic scientific possibilities,” Ali says in his first radio talk.
And that is exactly what Ali’s talks – and through them, the book – take you through.
What strikes you is how universal that joy – that pure pleasure of watching birds – is, whether you’re the legendary Salim Ali or a small-time birdwatcher. His remarkable storytelling skills bring that to the fore: he tells you why birds are fascinating, drawing the reader in with effortless ease. There’s much elegance and simplicity in his communication: it is clear, descriptive and efficient (at one instance, mass-nesting flamingoes looked like “a field of white and pink flowers”, he says).
You have to agree with Gandhi in her Introduction: it’s no wonder that Ali could connect so successfully with a wide range of people – from children to maharajas and politicians. Some interactions among these have even led to the protection of wild habitats.
Ali talks about complex bird behaviour, the tailors and masons of the bird world, and of kleptomaniac weaver birds. His detailed observations are sometimes anthropomorphic (a cheating male weaver bird looked “guilty” and “sheepish”, he says).
Ali’s own personality, especially his humour and wit, shine through. He dispels myths (no, weaver birds do not stick fireflies to a mud blob and place them in their nests to light them up). His talks sometimes turn sombre: the threats birds face, as do the habitats they live in.
But all his stories are studded with natural history, inferences drawn from the observational study of different bird species. He repeatedly highlights how important detailed observations are, even though naturalists have met with “condescending tolerance”. Observing birds can help challenge a lot of preconceived notions about bird behaviour, he says. For instance, we know now that male weaver birds head to a different communal roost at night and do not use incomplete nests in their bird colony, as they were thought to do – something Ali’s observations helped establish.
The power of natural history is more recognised now, for sure, and we are seeing some stellar naturalists sprout in India. But one wonders why natural history still has not caught on too well here, more than 60 years later.
Some sections of Ali’s talks are rather repetitive. The Baya weavers that he closely observed for several months, for instance, make an appearance on more than three occasions. Other topics that recur include bird migration, and how bird watching was regarded as a “childish way of killing time”.
The overlaps in content do get distracting if you’re reading the book at one go. But the talks are, in many cases, standalone. So the repetition is forgivable. Especially so because Gandhi helpfully structures the book into five more-or-less distinct sections, making it extremely convenient for the reader to navigate to any specific talk about an overarching theme.
The first section, for instance, is about bird watching in general. Other sections touch on birds seen during specific seasons, and about what research and studies tell us about birds. It’s rather sobering to note that the situation of one of the five species that Ali lists in his talk ‘The Vanishing Species’ (dated April 22, 1957, in the section titled “Birds at Risk”) as being on the verge of extinction, is still as precarious as ever. The great Indian bustard, a large bird of the semi-desert and scrubby grasslands of central and western India, is “spectacular,” Ali writes.
But, “…it seems doubtful if the bustard can eke out much longer except perhaps in small numbers under careful protection in National Parks” he says, adding that the conservation of the birds’ habitat is “perhaps even more important than protecting individual birds”.
But forget designating these bustard habitats as protected areas, it’s ironic how many of these open savanna tracts are at present being swallowed by enormous solar parks in the name of green energy and sustainable development. It appears that even 60+ years is not enough time to develop focused strategies to protect the bird’s landscape.
Words for Birds is a must-read for anyone who’d love to learn about the wild. But more so for birdwatchers, and especially so if you want to read about India’s birds through the eyes of Salim Ali. Whether you’re just starting off, or are a seasoned, everyday birder, Ali’s words will take you back to your own precious memories of watching birds. The book is a beautiful window into Ali’s world, one that recognises the importance of slowing down and smelling the roses, or in this case, observing the birds.