Occurence of Red-Winged Crested Cuckoo –Clamator coromandus

I am not sure whether this bird has been recorded in this part of the country.  On 16^th February 2011 afternoon at around 4.30 p.m. the bird landed on a broad leaved tree near my residence in the Pondicherry University Campus.  It was a slightly pleasant afternoon and the sunlight was trickling through the sparsely wooded campus. The bird appeared not too frightened and intimidated by the photographer. After a quick glance around and waving its crest the bird flapped into the neighbouring wooded area adjacent to Auroville campus.

Clamator coromandus

The Pondicherry University campus is coterminous with the boundaries of Auroville—(a significant place on all tourist maps of the country on account of the idealist bio-centric international community living together inspired by Sri Aurobindo’s vision of harmony)–  and the land, soil and vegetation certainly is not much different. There are not much variety in terms of trees and bushes. Cassia, Acacia and Cashew Nut trees along with variety of palms comprise the major flora. An occasional Neem or a Tamarind would add spice to the air. Many new species are also being planted and cared for.  But then for the most the campus is dry and does not harbor many fruiting or flowering tree, except of course for the ubiquitous cashew—and when in season it is rife with birdlife. Coppersmith Barbets and the other kinds of frugivorous birds usually live off the nuts and berries. Tamarind, Mango and Lime are also not too hard to come by.  Insects and reptiles abound. And so do a variety of amphibians.  An occasional visit from a Peafowl from beyond the walls of the University Campus would add a tinge of colour to the red sand dunes.

Red-Winged Crested Cuckoo

The heart-line of the campus is of course the deep gorge or the Ravine that runs toward the sea on the east coast. A walk down or even along these red slopes in the early dawn or late evening is bound to yield interesting results for the avid bird watcher. Resident owls and nightjars have been reported by enthusiastic students. During the rains this ravine empties the excess water down to the sea and all along the dry summer days the ravine affords some sort of cool shade and respite for the ground dwellers, lizards, scorpions, snakes and chameleons as well.

Clamator coromandus

For the most the sprawling eight-hundred acre campus is a quiet haven for a large number of bird species. And overhead at almost any time of the day depending on the season one can find large flocks of estuary and coastal birds, egrets, and herons slow winging toward the marshes and salt water ranges on the east coast road. The crackling racket of Roseringed Parakeets is a fairlycommon greeting for the naturalist who steps into the campus during the day. So is the tonk-tonking of the Coppersmith Barbet.
The afternoon of the 16^th February was just like most other late winter afternoons—there were Common Myna, Black Drongo, Red-Vented Bulbul, Iora, Brainferever bird, Paradise Flycatcher, White-browed Bulbul, and Golden Oriole, hunting about when the Red-Winged Crested Cuckoo landed. There was a slight breeze from the east. My excitement was overflowing. At first I had thought this was a rather plump Paradise Flycatcher female, but then closer inspection showed the clear white shoulder patch and black crest. Identity confirmed! [Clamator coromandus]

It was the Red-Winged Crested Cuckoo visiting the campus and perhaps taking off immediately. Strangely enough I spotted the very same specimen the next day at almost the same time on the same whereabouts.  But that was all. The bird’s brief visit had ended as suddenly as it began.

s.murals@gmail.com

The poet of ‘Earth Signs’ poetry review

Donald T Nigli  [donaldnigli@gmail.com]   poetry review

Above all, Murali’s poems are soothing and pleasing.  They do not disturb, but as one closes the book the poems leave with a valediction to the human heart and a profound feeling of nostalgia as if something precious has been laid aside.

Sing he does, for this collection will not fail to impress upon you its lyricism and the poet’s many black and white sketches of trees and birds ‘amidst’ the pages and as they appear in lower-case names throughout the book. If you’re not critiquing and skimming just for simple pleasures of poetry…

EARTH SIGNS Poems by Murali Sivaramkrishnan, Pondicherry: The Creative People, 2006.  Rs.60.

Tucked away in one corner of south India, in a sprawling 800 acre 8000 treed 80 bird-specied Pondicherry University sings Murali Sivaramakrishnan the poet of Earth Signs teasing you with poem after poem of rustic images of an earth dear to us all and of birds and trees we cannot but love in this Wordsworthian Lake Country campus.

Sing he does, for this collection will not fail to impress upon you its lyricism and the poet’s many black and white sketches of trees and birds ‘amidst’ the pages and as they appear in lower-case names throughout the book. If you’re not critiquing and skimming just for simple pleasures of poetry, you might open page 3:

“I draw my dreams up tightly / around me every night / and make a soft cocoon of kingly wisdom / In plain black and white I loll / No day light enters through its thick / comfort; no bird drones its sorrow / nor delight – I am alright alone / in my empire surfeit, successful, content / on a perpetual knight errand on camel back.

He walks his images and metaphors as he would his favourite dogs without leashes, in good control as they move here and there with a few of his disapproving  titches – while they enjoyed themselves within his watchful art’s wide arc.

“This evening / the river is not wide enough / to hold back the shadow / of the tree / as it spreads… The saplings had learned / it from the hugging the earth closer /and closer night and day… Let the evening / stretch the tree and shade, and the river / trickle down to its last drop / the earth is thirstier than ever” from ‘Clear Logic of Reason’.

Along with the fine touch & feel of the off-white acid-free paper, I counted 15 poems and impressive lines on every page that I liked, but here are two short pieces I could not resist quoting entirely, “A lone crow, they say / you see the first thing at dawn / brings you ill luck / I should ask the crow / what it thinks about this / seeing a lone me the first thing at dawn.” It is thought-provoking mischief in his ‘Ramblings’ but you know that if you are naturalist how else but from a crow’s point of view you must see. And here’s one that’s more Protestant in its titillation, “Give to God / what you value most / yourself / if only God will take it”

Murali seems to have, with the single-mindedness of a barber (or a physician of yore), sat through a whole day stropping his razor on the leather strap to finally sit and slice slivers of these words in ‘The Ghost in the Room’

“Now I see the / face aghast at the human sight, like / broken glass-bits in the mid-day sun / up-bearing the abrupt light. Why don’t/ some owls hoot ad dogs howl to suffer / me to falter and fumble in fake distress / and let my guest out through the open window?”

How many lines of worth must one quote to say these are of quality and repute, since there is enough of them and then more and more? Yet there are instances of wordplay like an American story giving you a slice of life but going nowhere, but by and large this is the poetry of a content man, his gripe if any probably swept up in to his professorial dialogues, his intent caught-up in the out-of-the-box ideas at enervating his young students. There are crisp images and canny metaphors but you find it hard pressed to find the hungry poet, and his anger probably weaned away by his years of contriving his wards in to appreciating the Masters and Bards with the ever encroaching and bountifully rewarding soft-ware languages sniping at their heels.

There are the traditional (internal) rhyme, alliteration and assonance… so easily strewn and hidden, so too repetition, caught in the free-flow of a poet in the natural rhythm and earthly elements. Above all, Murali’s poems are soothing and pleasing.  They do not disturb, but as one closes the book the poems leave with a valediction to the human heart and a profound feeling of nostalgia as if something precious has been laid aside. donaldnigli@gmail.com