Sunbirds in the Morning, Grey Hornbills at Dusk review: Delhi, a birdwatchers’ paradise

In 2024, when these memories appear to belong to the distant past, it is possible to nurture some of the innocent, mindful pastimes picked up during those turbulent times. If you happen to be a fledgling birdwatcher, get your hands on a copy of painter and writer Bulbul Sharma’s book Sunbirds in the Morning, Grey Hornbills at Dusk: Nature Rambles Through Delhi. She takes readers to Lodhi Gardens, Sunder Nursery, Sultanpur Lake, Ring Road, Hauz Khas, Chanakyapuri, and Vasant Kunj in Delhi and on trips to Kasauli and Bharatpur near Delhi.

Birdwatch

First published by Aleph Book Company in 2014, it is out now in a new edition by Speaking Tiger Books for readers who have warmed up to “the healing power of Nature” and want to deepen their connection with the environment they live in and the non-human species around them. “It should not be that we seek Nature’s healing touch only when times are bad,” writes Sharma. “We will all disappear into the ethereal world one day but Nature, an intrinsic part of our being, is forever.” The author uses the capital ‘N’ as a mark of humility and reverence.

“Delhi is a birdwatcher’s city with at least 20 birds on display at any given time. You will see bulbuls, mynas, woodpeckers and bee-eaters in almost every park or garden,” writes Sharma. The book follows the cycle of seasons, and is neatly divided into four sections — Winter, Spring, Summer, and Monsoon. In addition to these sections, there is an introduction, an epilogue, a list of references, and an appendix with names of birds and plants mentioned in the book. Sharma’s charming prose, which is languid and contemplative in keeping with the subject, is complemented by some of her fine black-and-white sketches of flora and fauna.

In this book, you will meet spotted owlets that abhor eye contact with humans, wood pigeons discussing travel plans, flamingos gliding like graceful ballerinas, scarlet minivets in search of insects, moorhens that look like Cinderella’s sisters trying out slippers, coucals with an identity crisis, and rose ringed parakeets that resemble Elizabethan dandies with their chic pink neck scarves. You will get to know rosy starlings that remind the author of women chattering at a kitty party just before the food arrives, black redstarts that seem like police constables filing a first information report, crows rolling their eyes like food critics, and pintail ducks that remind her of corporate honchos at an annual general meeting.

The rhythms of nature

The comparisons that Sharma comes up with are hilarious. An enterprising English teacher looking to teach literary devices such as personification, metaphor, simile and analogy will find many examples in this book. The voice of the coppersmith, for instance, evokes recollections of her cousin who used to grab the microphone at every family function. Seen through Sharma’s eyes, the Indian eagle-owl looks as confident as a mafia don, and magpie robins seem to carry the air of smart lawyers returning from court after winning a case. Her extremely fertile imagination makes her think of fruit bats as messengers sent by witches.

People who are new to Delhi, and want to explore it at a slow pace, would find a friend in this book. It would also make a great gift for children and teenagers who show affection for and curiosity about birds, animals and trees because it is funny, informative and far from preachy. Sharma does not lecture people about conservation. She writes about what she loves. This is possible because, as a child, she was allowed to wander in the open countryside. She has vivid and happy memories of playing in mango orchards, ponds, and thorny scrub forests.

While this book seems to be written for residents of Delhi and visitors to Delhi, it will also benefit people who just want to look anew at their surroundings. It is a mood-lifter. The sense of humour is refreshing; the laughter is not at anyone’s expense. The author transports us to a more innocent, less complicated time when people’s lives followed the rhythms of nature, when the arrival of migratory birds signalled the end of one season and the onset of another.

A palpable interconnectedness

Sharma weaves in poems and folk songs, reminisces about seasonal delicacies like aam panna and bael sherbet, longs for jasmine-scented summer nights on terrace beds, and makes us smile with descriptions of Himalayan langurs sipping nectar from rhododendron buds, and women weaving garlands of sundried cauliflowers, carrots and turnips for the winter months.

When Sharma writes about other species, the sense of intimacy and interconnectedness is palpable. We meet a tailorbird who built a nest in a flower pot in her veranda, a kingfisher who used to bid goodbye to her son before the little one boarded the school bus, and a baya weaver who looked like an aunt of hers who pulled her plaits. We learn about her grandma who used to make rice balls to feed crows, her mother who spoke with sparrows, and her brother who used to compete with parakeets for the juiciest fruits from a mango tree.

The book is also peppered with references to literary works by Kalidas, Jayadeva, Jalaluddin Rumi, Rabindranath Tagore, Salim Ali, Lewis Carroll, Rudyard Kipling, and Jim Corbett. If you are looking for a reading list to kickstart the New Year, Sharma has got you covered.