| |
Parrots, parakeets,
macaws, cockatoos, lorikeets, budgerigars,
lovebirds, lories, cockateels, whatever
– we’ve loved the whole clan
for one major narcissistic reason: they
remind us of ourselves. Of course their
biggest USP has been the ability of some
of them to ‘talk’ and mimic
human voices and other sounds, but which
other bird can hold up a sandwich much the
way we do, take a bite and drawl, ‘delicious
darling’ in the voice of a gin-soaked
socialite? Of course, scientists, those
eternal party poopers maintain that parrots
have no idea what they’re talking
about (well, nor do most of us, most of
the time!), though parrot owners will assault
you for saying so, and apparently recently,
there’s been some evidence to show
that at least that Einstein of parrots –
the African greys – actually think
before they speak, if coached enough.
 |
Rose-ringed
Parakeet Psittacula krameri copyright
Nikhil Devasar; 7th may 2006;
Sultanpur
|
 |
Rose-ringed
Parakeet Psittacula krameri copyright
Niraj V. Mistry; 27th August 2005;
Sayla, Gujarat
|
 |
Plum-headed
Parakeet Psittacula cynocephala
|
|
|
But parrots have paid
a huge price for their charm and charisma;
for example, the top three species
in terms of numbers caught for the
bird trade in India are the Rose-ringed
(Psittacula krameri), the
Alexandrine alias the Large Indian
(Psittacula eupatria) and
the Plum-headed (Psittacula cyanocephala).
In fact the Large Indian parakeet
was said to be the first of its kind
to be taken back to Europe by officers
in the army of Alexander the Great
– and from whence it got its
name. So far, parakeets are holding
their own as far as numbers are concerned
(though the |
Alexandrine is locally disappearing from
areas where it is being extensively trapped)
and in fact, they are the number one pests
of orchards and cereal fields throughout
the country. So much so that even Salim
Ali suggested that the Rose-ringed parakeet
be canned and exported as tinned meat! Ah,
and yes, we have a common bad habit here
too – like us, parrots and parakeets
are huge wastrels, and will feed like spoilt
princelings – wasting far more than
they consume. But we must always remember
than an Indian sky without parakeets shrieking
across them, will be a lonely and dispiriting
space, for there are few birds that can
match their sheer joie de vivre as they
tear apart the mornings and evenings like
lunatic scud missiles.
| The most common and
successful of the lot is the Rose-ringed
parakeet. Grass-green all over this
‘green-chillie’ parakeet
(42 cm) has the usual domed head (indicating
great intellect) of its clan, a strong
red nut-cracker bill, and a long pointed
tail. Gents wear a handsome rose pink
and black collar, and have the most
charming way of courting the ladies.
They’re found pretty much everywhere
in the country, in ‘moist and
dry deciduous biotope’ even
semi-desert areas, but of course,
will flock in huge numbers to orchards
and fields of ripening grain like
tipplers to a bar where the Glenfiddich
is on the house. And while ravishing
the bottlebrush or guava in your garden,
they will of course maintain complete
radio silence, and are already dressed
in camouflage colours. The clan is
vegetarian, stuffing itself with cereal,
fruit and the nectar of flowers, which
they obtain by deflowering (literally!)
the whole bloom, and so do not even
pay for their sweet-dish by cross-pollinating
it. They roost in large numbers in
gardens and groves, sharing space
with mynas and crows, in big leafy
trees. Like most of the clan, they
nest (usually from December to July
varying locally) in holes in tree
trunks or branches, or in the walls
of old forts, monuments, buildings
and houses – in fact anyplace
you can excavate an apartment. Three
to four round white eggs are laid,
and woe betide any bird or creature
that dares approach a nesting hole
where a family is being raised. The
clan will gather and work itself up
to a fine state of hysteria, fluttering
around the intruder, shrieking and
catcalling at the tops of their voices.
Sometimes, alas, this does not work,
and I once watched a ruthless pair
of Indian mynas evict a pair of parakeets
from a hole – |
|
 |
Rose-ringed
Parakeet Psittacula krameri
copyright Clement Francis
M
|
|
perhaps their lease had expired –
with all the efficiency of a pair of professional
bouncers. But parakeet fledglings are more
at risk from greedy human hands intruding
into their nests and clutching at them than
anything else, and it is wise policy to
avert your eyes from a nest hole (forget
about training your binoculars on it), because
the eyes of little boys and their ilk will
be quick to follow yours and size up the
opportunity.
 |
Rose-ringed
Parakeet Psittacula krameri (
Female ) copyright Clement Francis
M
|
 |
Rose-ringed
Parakeet Psittacula krameri (
Juvenile ) copyright Clement Francis
M
|
Gentleman parakeets have a most charming
way of courting the ladies, and one which
will no doubt, have the moral police spluttering
with indignation and clattering their lathis
in frustration. First the suitor will park
himself next to the lady – at a decorous
distance of course, and start giving her
sidelong looks. (This can happen in any
public place, like on telephone wires I
tell you!) Then, he’ll stretch himself
up to his full height and begin sidling
up to her slyly, and before you can say
‘Mithooo daarrling!’ it all
becomes too much for them and they’re
French kissing like there’s no tomorrow.
For god’s sake he even feeds her with
regurgitated pap, please avert you eyes
now (the dirty bugger, does he have no sister?)!
Ah, and then he’s suddenly overcome
with remorse for taking such liberties,
and backs off, but still gazes at her besotted,
and postures with his wings half open, holding
up the foot closest to her as if offering
her a bouquet of roses he forgot to bring
along (or ate in a peckish moment). Then
he goes over to the other side and tries
the same stunt from there – and so
back and forth.
The Large Indian or Alexandrine parakeet
is quite similar to but substantially
larger (53 cm) than the Rose-ringed and
not so common. One distinguishing mark
is the maroon epaulettes it wears on its
shoulders. It is armed with a fearsome
red nut-cracker bill and has slightly
bulging eyes and a rather more guttural
voice (keeak!). It flies with deliberate
wing-beats, and doesn’t seem to
be in such a tearing hurry, though it
gets around pretty quickly. The birds
move around in small flocks, but huge
gatherings of the clan accumulate for
roosting at favourite spots, and preferring
their own company. Like the Rose-ringed
they also behave like weapons of mass
destruction in fields of ripening grain
and orchards, and are very popular cage
birds and can be taught to ‘talk’,
and do silly tricks as pull out fortune
cards and fire off toy cannons (as if
there are not enough of us firing off
the real ones!).
 |
Alexandrine
Parakeet Psittacula eupatria copyright
Nikhil Devasar; May 2006; Kangra,
Himachal Pradesh
|
 |
Alexandrine
Parakeet Psittacula eupatria copyright
Nikhil Devasar; May 2006; Kangra,
Himachal Pradesh
|
 |
Alexandrine
Parakeet Psittacula eupatria copyright
Clement Francis M
|
With its plum coloured head and wolf-whistle
call (tooi-tooi?) given at high
speed on the wing, the Plum-headed parakeet
is easily the most glamorous of the three
most common species of parakeets in the
country. Smaller (36 cm.) than the Rose-ringed,
it streaks across the skies like a tearaway
missile heading for fields, orchards and
granaries. Males have rich plum coloured
heads, papaya-yellow bills (upper mandible)
and green bodies, with maroon epaulettes
and blue-green tail tipped white. The ladies
have grey heads. In the north-east they
are in most areas replaced by the Blossom-headed
parakeet which has a paler pink head and
pale lilac-blue (rather than purple) rear
crown and nape.
 |
Plum-headed
Parakeet Psittacula cynocephala
copyright Clement Francis M
|
In the Himalayan foothills, the Slaty-headed
(Psittacula himalayana) and Red-breasted
(Psittacula alexandri) Parakeets
plunder hill orchards and terraced fields.
The Slaty-headed (41 cm) has a grey head
with a black chin stripe and half collar,
heavy red bill and yellow-tipped tail and
(gents only) maroon shoulder patch, and
a call rather like the Plum-headed parakeet’s
but hoarser. The Red-breasted parakeet (38cm)
has a lilac-grey crown and ear coverts,
black chin stripe, deep lilac pink breast,
a red upper mandible and long blue-green
tail. Females are quite similar but have
a black upper mandible Their call has been
described as a sharp nasal ‘kaink’.
Mention must be made of the delightful
Indian Lorikeet or Vernal Hanging Parrot
(Loriculus vernalis) a sparrow-sized
dumpy green parrot with a bright red stop
light rump and bill, and turquoise patch
on the breast (more prominent in males).
Found in the forests of the Western Ghats,
and in the east south from Orissa to Andhra
Pradesh, these busy little birds clamber
and clown about on the tops of trees,
using bills and claws to get about amongst
the branches and hanging upside down to
get to hard-to-reach blooms. They have
a flurried undulating flight and rasping
flight call: ‘de-zeez-zeet’
also given on the wing.
Altogether,
fifteen species of parakeets have
been listed from the Indian subcontinent,
out of a world total of between 315
and 320. South and Central America
have the most glamorous members of
the clan, the 15 or so species of
big gaudy macaws, living in the rainforests
and trapped ruthlessly for the pet
trade. The 25 odd species of Amazons,
green parrots with stout-bodies (marked
with red, yellow or blue) and square
or rounded tails are hugely poplar
as pets. But the bird with the highest
mark up is undoubtedly the African
grey from Africa (from the Gold coast
and Congo to Kenya and Tanzania),
simply because it is the best talker
in the business. The lovebirds also
from Africa and Madagascar are also
hugely popular as pets, because of
their fondness to cuddle and canoodle
(and should be gifted to every police-station
in the country, if you could excuse
birds being kept in cages at all).
The 16 or so species of cockatoos,
from Australia and the Malayan region
are perhaps the biggest clowns of
the kingdom, though many species are
regarded as pests. Blessed with hilarious
crests, which they can raise and lower
depending on mood, they are usually
white tinged with pink or yellow.
The largest, the Black cockatoo from
New Guinea is a hefty 77cm and a bill
that can crack the hardest nut. The
Australasian region also has the brilliantly
coloured lories or lorikeets small
(15 to 37 cm) birds whose tongues
are edged with a bushy fringe with
which they lap up nectar and fruit
juices after crushing the blooms with
their beaks. Though there is no scientific
differentiation between parrots and
parakeets, the latter are loosely
described as small long tailed parrots,
hailing from the Old word, and living
on grain and fruit, often in cultivated
areas. They travel huge noisy flocks
and are often destructive to agriculture.
New Zealand probably has the most
rare and strangest members of this
clan. The Kakapo or Owl Parrot (up
to 66cm) is almost extinct, hiding
out in holes and under |
|
 |
Malabar
Parakeet (Pair) Psittacula
columboides
copyright Clement Francis
M
|
|
trees during the day, and coming out to
eat only at night. It is flightless, (hence
easy meat for any introduced predator) heavy
set and cryptically coloured in greens browns
and bronzes, and now found only on Stewart
Island and Fiordland where the tiny surviving
population is being overseen and monitored
with great care. Males ready to breed, excavate
‘booming bowls’ beneath tree
roots and inflating themselves up, exhale
into it, producing a bittern like booming
sound that travels far and wide. The
Kea, has acquired a reputation for vandalism
and worse – of supplementing its
diet in winter by digging into the backs
of live sheep for their kidney fat.
And finally to deflate our egos somewhat:
left amongst themselves, no self-respecting
parrot will talk. It will scream, shriek,
screech, whistle, and raise merry hell,
but it will not greet its partner with
‘Good morning dear, good morning
dear, good morning dear….’,
every morning. It’s only when held
captive that parrots talk – because
they’re sociable birds and bored
out of their minds when put into solitary.
And out of sheer desperation are really
trying to chat you up into being their
mate… Any takers?
|
|
