by Preeth Ganapathy
‘It opens only at 8.30 am, sir’, said the gatekeeper. We decided to park our car by the wayside and bide our time. My husband and I had travelled quite a distance, nearly a hundred kilometres, before we decided to make an unplanned detour to the bird sanctuary and spend some peaceful hours in the midst of nature with the chirping birds, rustling leaves, blue skies and pristine quietness. We could hear the pleasant, inviting cries of different birds as we waited. It only increased our desire to unravel and explore the hidden mysteries of nature that lay ahead.
Our car was quickly followed by a few more—all waiting for the sanctuary to throw its gates open. But as soon as one of the cars started reversing, setting off the loud reverse alarm, the birds stopped chirping to listen to the new intruder into their aural space. I had a good mind to ask the driver to desist from such activities that disturbed the delicate balance of the sylvan setting. But at precisely that moment, the clock struck half-past eight, and we were allowed into what looked like a breathtaking ‘paradise’. The dense growth of trees—from bamboo to banyan to peepal to grass in varied shades of green, provided an idyllic setting for nature lovers to have the time of their lives.
I felt like comfortably settling down on a stone bench nearby, observing the birds, inhaling the fresh air, taking in the green, and absorbing the silence, calm and peace through the pores of my skin. But a group of three young boys arrived on the scene and dispelled the slightest of such notions with their loud chatter and selfie clicking. The birds stopped chirping again and the magical spell was broken. Slightly annoyed, my husband and I decided to change track and venture out on another route which would offer the comfort of solitude. There was a quaint shelter that was built at a height overlooking the lake. The waters of the lake, green from the accumulated moss, had shoals of fish moving about in their own underwater world. The three islands in the middle of the lake caught our imagination.
A couple of minutes later, we learnt that there was boating on offer at the lake. After much thought, we decided that we should, after all, take a ride down the quiet lake, watch the birds on the small islands and fulfil the purpose of our visit to the sanctuary.
We paid for our seats and waited. As we were waiting, a large family with a wailing baby in tow arrived on the scene, chattering loudly. They bought their tickets and waited along with us for the boat to arrive. Cranky children crying, adults pacifying them, ladies exchanging the latest bits of gossip, teenage kids sharing photography tricks—they were all a sight to watch! Soon the boat arrived. We occupied our seats while the remaining ones were filled by the family with much fanfare and hullabaloo. One of the kids knocked down a board that read ‘Please Maintain Silence’ at the entrance as he got on to the boat. Before the ride began, there was a loud cheer. Everyone was excited to have embarked on the journey as if it was to some exotic destination! ‘There goes our boat ride for a toss,’ I thought. The helmsman, who also doubled up as our guide, began by asking everybody to maintain silence lest they should scare the reclusive birds away. And then we saw it—a giant crocodile that had surfaced about five hundred meters away. The large reptile managed to silence down the crowd for the first time.
Our helmsman, rather happy with the sudden turn of events, got down to business. He softly whispered, drawing our attention to the various birds that had settled comfortably on the branches of trees on one of the islands. They were posing like celebrities on the red carpet to the flash of a thousand clicks by eager paparazzi.
‘These birds are called herons. They have white plumes which have turned orange-yellow now, during the courting season,’ he explained. ‘And this is called the snake bird,’ he said, pointing at two birds that had brownish, black plumes and long, tender, slender, stick legs. ’Aditya, did you like the bird?’ shouted a lady in a sleeveless black, tank top from the front of the boat to the rear where Aditya was clicking pictures madly. I sat up startled. ‘Madam, if you please, you’ll scare the birds,’ said the helmsman, exasperated, as one of the birds flew away flapping its wings.
A crocodile appeared once again, very close to the boat, this time. We did not know if it was the same crocodile that had surfaced earlier, but people now shushed one another, thanks to the new sighting. The mad clicking of photographs stopped for once. They perhaps feared that there was a crocodile right under our boat! Peace and calm finally descended on us for the rest of the ride. The pristine, still waters reflected the row of dense, green bushes by the edge of the land. But just as we had started enjoying the actual serenity, it was time to get off the boat. The display near the boarding point that said ‘Please Maintain Silence’ was knocked down again, by the crowd scrambling out of the boat. The helmsman straightening it, probably for the umpteenth time, muttered to himself, ‘Maybe we should just get it removed.’
Picture from https://www.flickr.com/photos/
