Every Bird Counts–Your Observations Matter

Every winter dawn in Telangana, once part of the united Telugu landscape, used to erupt in wings of wonder. Skies teemed with migratory flocks, open fields flashed with the electric blue of Roller& Kingfisher Birds, and far above, Vultures circled like ancient sentinels guarding the land. That living orchestra is now thinning, its notes falling silent one by one. From the shrinking woodlands of the Nallamala ranges to the unique concrete rockyformations of Hyderabad, the fate of our birds tells a stark story. Breathtaking diversity still survives, sustained by the passion of a few committed watchers, yet shadowed by alarming declines that demand urgent attention. This is no longer just a Natural History, it is a warning, and it should unsettle every citizen who still believes these skies belong to us all.

Citizens Science

The Hyderabad Bird Atlas (HBA) 2025 has delivered a sharp, data-rich snapshot of the city’s birdlife, documenting 218 species through 1,440 eBird checklists contributed by 400+ volunteers across 180 survey grids in winter and monsoon seasons. The findings carry strong conservation signals as 18 species are protected under Schedule 1 of the Wildlife Protection Act, while 26 species rank as High Priority in the State of India’s Birds assessment. A striking highlight is the Indian Roller, Telangana’s state bird, whose numbers plunged from 26 sightings in winter to just 4 during the monsoon, pointing to seasonal vulnerability. The survey also recorded threatened species such as the Vulnerable River Tern and Near Threatened Asian Woolly-necked Stork, Spot-billed Pelican, and Pallid Harrier, reaffirming Hyderabad’s role as a critical urban habitat.

City survivors such as the Red-vented Bulbul, Purple Sunbird, and Rock Pigeon dominated across seasons, whereas monsoon arrivals told a different story. The Pied Cuckoo and other cuckoos surged with the rains, mirroring insect booms and breeding cycles. Led by specialist groups of WWF-India, Hyderabad Birding Pals, and Deccan Birders, the Hyderabad Bird Atlas has completed two of six planned seasons. With rapid urbanisation, wetland encroachment, and grassland loss accelerating, this atlas now stands as a vital early-warning system to guide policy, prioritise habitats, and safeguard Hyderabad’s birds before the silences grow louder.

Blue Jay an Icon in Crisis

At the heart of Telangana’s avian narrative lies its state bird, the vibrant Blue Jay, locally known as Palapitta and scientifically as the Indian Roller (Coracias benghalensis). Adored for its brilliant blue plumage and acrobatic displays, the Indian Roller is woven into local culture. Its sighting during Dasara and Ugadi festivals is traditionally seen as auspicious, and it graces festivals and stories across rural and urban Telangana alike.

Yet in recent years, this beloved bird has become an emblem of crisis. According to wildlife surveys and conservation reports, the Indian Roller’s numbers in Telangana have declined sharply by almost as much as 30–35% over the past decade, a drop attributed to rapid urbanisation, habitat loss, dwindling insect prey due to pesticides, and fragmented grasslands.

The situation became so urgent that the Indian Roller was discussed in the Rajya Sabha during a recent Parliament session. In response to a question by MP Dr. K. Laxman about the bird’s declining numbers and its IUCN Near Threatened status, Union Environment Minister Bhupender Yadav stated that while it is included in Schedule II of the Wildlife Protection Act, there were no specific central plans for its conservation, placing responsibility primarily on state governments. This reply ignited concern among conservationists, who say festival enforcement and occasional raids are no substitute for a comprehensive state and nationwide protection strategy.

Beyond the Binoculars

Chasing birds was never my profession but an ardent passion that hovered between fantasy and fantastic. What began as boyish curiosity hardened into a lifelong obsession, one that shaped my sunup’s and sundown’s, guided my travels, and quietly altered how I see the natural world. I began in Bangalore and Bhopal in late 1970s and earnestly in Hyderabad during early 1980s, long before digital cameras, Bird ID-Apps, or instant gratification of the social media. Birdwatching then demanded prudent patience with dog-eared field guides, whispered identifications, and hours of waiting for a silhouette to turn into a feathered friend.

Recognition came slowly, but when it did, it was punch packed. Over the decades, birds became my compass across India. From the stately Black-necked Cranes of Ladakh to the strange Frogmouths of southern forests. From the rare White-winged Wood Duck of the Northeast to Flamingos and Pelicans of Gujarat and Rajasthan, birds stitched the country together for me in ways no map ever could. Each landscape carried its own rhythm and lesson.

Rare Rhapsody

In my search for colourful Trogons, regal Monal Pheasants, and even the much-maligned Vultures, I learned to discard human notions of beauty. Raptors like Tawny Eagles and Harriers command respect not through colour but mastery. Watching a Peregrine hunt is to witness precision refined over millennia. Watching Vultures wheel on high thermals is to understand nature’s most misunderstood sanitation workers, safeguarding ecosystems.

Birds became my silent witnesses to loss. Wetlands like Bharatpur Bird Sanctuary, once brimming with life, now echo with absence. Grasslands that hosted migratory Harriers have been swallowed by concrete constructions. Power lines slice invisible death traps across flyways. Pesticides poison insects, then birds, then entire food chains. My cameras began recording not just species, but disappearances, subtle at first, then undeniable. The skies are not empty yet, but they are unmistakably quieter. I recall how I captured 100s of Vultures devouring a cow carcass in just minutes and today the Vultures have become rare.

Yet, birds endure. They adapt, migrate, resist, and return, season after season, placing fragile trust in landscapes that increasingly betray them. That trust may be their greatest tragedy and our greatest responsibility. I realised birdwatching is not about ticking checklists or chasing rarity. It is about bearing witness and noticing what remains, what is slipping away, and what urgently needs protection. Today India alone supports 1,429 species, about 12% of the world’s avifauna. I may not see all the Indian birds in my lifetime but certainly chased the rarest of them all.

Why These Birds Matter

Birds are not ornaments of Nature but they are its engineers and messengers. They regulate insect populations, including agricultural pests and disease-carrying mosquitoes. They pollinate plants, disperse seeds, and regenerate forests long before humans arrive with grand plans. Scavengers like Vultures prevent deadly diseases by clearing carcasses. Wetland birds warn us of water distress long before laboratory reports. When birds vanish, ecosystems unravel, and human well-being follows.

In the end, birds taught me humility. We do not own the skies, forests, or wetlands but we merely borrow them. Birds remind us daily, through their presence or absence, whether we are worthy borrowers. To protect birds is not charity or nostalgia but it is survival. On 5th January, National Bird Day, we truly honour them, we must look beyond binoculars and finally learn how to share the world we have taken for granted.

From Salim Ali to Modern Atlas Surveys

Nearly a century ago, during the Nizam era, a young Dr. Salim Ali conducted some of his earliest bird surveys in Hyderabad and surrounding regions. His meticulous work laid the foundation for systematic ornithology in India and brought global attention to the subcontinent’s rich birdlife.

Today’s Hyderabad Bird Atlas, like bird surveys conducted across many cities inIndia, stands on that legacy, armed with GPS grid mapping, rigorous methodology, and community power. It offers not just lists but living evidence of how urbanisation and ecological change are rewriting the story of birds in our cities.

On this National Bird Day, the skies over Indian subcontinent, once a canvas of winged colour, need our voices as much as our binoculars. Not just to marvel, but to judiciously act, because when the birds disappear, they take with them stories, seasons and the very equilibrium of life we share.

Text and Photographs by
– N Shiva Kumar