Observations of an Amateur Bird Photographer

I had posted this on India Nature Watch long time back...

It is the journey. Not the destination.

I used to go to Hebbal lake to photograph birds. What's the big deal? Only, I was armed with my mighty Nikkor 18-70 MM and I used to wonder 'Why in the god's name do the Pelicans appear so distant.' Yeah. Laugh away. That's when one of the gentlemen who was armed with something that closely resembled a Bazooka told me 'Er, you need a bigger lens?' And I bought myself a Nikon 70-300 G for a little over five thousand bucks. Improvement? Yes. Satisfied. Hell no. Well, my point here is, whether I was trying to photograph birds with my kit lens or my poor man's telephoto lens, the journey has always been the same. I discovered my inherent ability to get closer to birds. My wife laughs every time she catches me crawling on all fours to shoot birds at ground level. Once in Savandurga I spent more than half hour getting close to a Magpie Robin. I had to crawl through thorny bushes; in fact I managed to cut my calf muscle. And, just a microsecond before I squeezed the shutter, the Robin took off. And in Lalbagh once, a Purple Swamp hen came and stood right in front of me and I had to freeze for well over five minutes. And, resist the temptation to scratch my neck. The journey, my friends, was and still is the same: exciting, fun, and inspiring. So on days when you go back home without a single decent shot, well, don't be too hard on yourself. It is the journey that counts. Not the destination or that award winning pic.


Let them come to you

I know that all the bird watchers I admire, including Sudhir Shivram, Vijay Cavale have this to say about getting close to a bird: let them come to you. Simple? No! It is easier said than done. Last week in Nandi Hills, my excitement got the better of my judgement and I went chasing a bunch of Orietnal White Eyes. I was exasperated when I realized that there was no way I was going to capture them in a frame. So, I wanted to rest. I found myself a quiet place, surrounded by bush and untouched for the day by humans. I dozed off on a rock. When I woke up after about 15 minutes, I realised that I was surrounded by at least 20 birds! Red Whiskered Bulbuls, Rufous Bellied Babblers, a solitary Jungle fowl, and of course the White eyes. I made it a point to not make any abrupt movements. In fact I did not even feel like taking pictures. I spent the next twenty minutes watching them go about their business. The babblers were building a nest and were busy collecting nesting material. The Bulbuls were just hanging out in pairs mostly. And I also spotted a Scimitar (my first sighting). The White Cheeked Barbets were singing away a heart-wrenching love song... Moral of the story: take a break and don't run after them. Walk down and relax.

The equipment does/does not matter

Sigh! Just when I was convinced that my 70-300 'G' was why I was shooting crappy pictures, I found someone posting great pictures shot with that same lens! Though it is natural to run to Jayesh and buy that 300 mm F 2.8, in my opinion, every aspiring photographer should start with a point and shoot 35mm film camera. And they should upgrade only when they are sure that their fundamentals are strong as required. I know people that own SLRs (for years!) and can't tell aperture from apricot. I'd say start with the basic camera. Learn making pictures with it and then, you can conquer the world with your 300... no 600 mm F 4. It is a hard fact to digest I know. I used my Sony 4.5 mega pixel point-and-shoot for a long time and actually got some good pics with it. In fact I became interested in photography only after I got me self a point-and-shoot. The equipment matters, but only when you are clear about what you want from life. You don't need a sledgehammer to crack a walnut. And, a toothpick is not a replacement for your dentist. Now that I am done with my metaphors and similes... find purpose, equipment will follow.

A backyard in hand is worth two Ranganthittus in your dreams

When I got my SLR (complete with the powerful 18-70mm kit lens), I went straight to Ranganthittu to shoot pictures. I failed to notice that the exposure compensation was +7 or something like that!! I did not even know where my focus was! I was just clicking away from that boat. And I had a smirk whenever I saw those normal humans with their point-and-shoots... Anyway, I finished my adventure at Ranganthittu and was reaching Bangalore when my 70 year old dad called from Chennai.
'I went for a 'shoot'' I told him.
He grunted and asked 'shoot what?'
I said 'Birds dad. Painted storks, Pelica...'
and he cut me in half with 'Why? are there no birds in your neighborhood?'

Now a days I go sit in the private park that belongs to our apartment complex and spot the sunbirds, flowerpeckers, and Ashy Priniass every day. Every single day. Sometimes I manage a White Cheeked Barbet. A few weeks back it'd rained on a warm Sunday afternoon. After it stopped raining, I went down to the park on an instinct. I spotted six Asian Koels. I also spotted a Barn Owl in the nights. Since I am ending all my gyan with a punch line, let me do an encore here. Frame the Prinia. The flycatcher will follow. Or, better still, if you can't play in your backyard don't go to the stadium... :-)

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Aandal Part 2

Read the first part

It was a Sunday afternoon and Aandal was squatting outside our grand ma's. She was telling my granny about this mentally challenged kid in one of the homes on Alwarpet street. She was talking about how that kid was always screaming for food. "Maami andha payyan eppo paaru bun kaapi bun kaapi nu Katheenu irukkum" (that kid screams bun n coffee bun n coffee all the time). So Suren started imitating her and she lost her temper. "Ayyy chinnadhu, Koluppaa? Pichi puduven!" (something to the effect hey you small one watch it!).

Now in all the years and all the maids that passed through our home no one has ever dared to mock us. It was us! Suren and I! Whatever hesitation we had about ragging Aandal was blown away and we stretched and cracked our knuckles, sighed, and said 'here we go!'

The next day Suren proposed to Aandal. "Aandal I - I love you... will you scrub my back?" She laughed baring her remaining, tobacco stained teeth. She was illiterate but who doesn't understand 'I love you' ? She referred to 'Love' as 'Labzu' and she complained to my mom "Maami idha paaru maami Chinnadhu Labzu pannudhu!' (Maami, see your younger son is doing 'Labzu')

Aandal worked in many homes in Alwarpet street and she was on a tight schedule every day. So she could ill afford any delays. We knew it and exploited it. When she came in the mornings to do the dishes and mop the house, Suren took his own time in the shower. Aandal started with gentle knocks on the bathroom door but she realised she was dealing with assholes, so the gentle knocks became explosive thumps, which were always echoed by Suren's devilish laughter.

When we bumped into her on the street, we always blew kisses and she would spit on the ground and mutter some unprintable stuff. Within a few months Aandal was quite famous among the boys, the shopkeepers in the neighbourhood, and the jobless adults that hung about the street.

I vividly remember Aandal giving one of those guys her piece of mind.
As she was walking by to 'Bhai's' provision store, the gang of boys sitting outside the store went 'hoo hooo Aandal I love you!' Aandal stopped in her tracks, surveyed the gang and picked one guy and said 'Thevdyaa payya, Why don't you go do labzu to your mother? I will chop it off!' A roar of laughter erupted and Aandal's voice became shrill as she started abusing that guy, but now she included his aunts, grand mom, uncles, wife... she also asked him 'dey! do you know who fathered you? I bet your mom doesn't know too...go fuck a dog!'

She never used such choicest abuses on us. She loved us I think and she knew we were harmless. She became quite a friend to my grand ma, probably because they were of the same age. When Suren made fun of my granny he attracted Aandal's attention too.

The days chugged on and Aandal got used to the ass holes that we were. Actually when Suren or me went out of town and were missing, Aandal gave us a rousing welcome when we returned. 'Take off your Saagunu! And put if for wash... take bath and eat... you need rest!' (Saagunu meant socks in Aandalese).

She hated the girl friends that visited home. Especially those that wore shorts. "Ayyyaaa! Ennaadhu idhu! Payyanaa ponnaa!? Ippidi thodaya kaattudhu!" ("Is this a guy or girl? And why is she exposing her thighs like this?")

But she hated drunks. She got extra ballistic on any drunk that crossed her path, including Ginny, my uncle. [...to be contd]

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Partha Sarathi MBA

"I am an MBA." He announced and laughed revealing his yellow teeth. He was standing in a corner, nursing a 90 of cheap whisky along with some beer. The veins were pronounced on his hands. He pulled the sleeves of his once off-white shirt yet again; it was an involuntary, nervous reaction I guess. I offered him a smoke. "I normally smoke Marlboro sir, but today I'll smoke my own Wills. Sorry eh?" He said. I shrugged and started talking to Sam. I ordered one more 60 of Old Monk rum.

"My name is Partha Sarathy." He continued. "Is that Godfather? Mario Puzo?"
I nodded in agreement and said "It is the latest in the series. This is not by Puzo though." He shook his head a hundred times and took the book from me. He pretended to seriously appraise the book and placed it on the wooden ledge that served as a place to set your drink down in Sapthagiri Wines. He finished his drink even before ours arrived. There was a bench along the wall and three guys occupied it. The leader of this group was already staring at Mr. Partha with adulation filled eyes.

"I helped this contractors get business worth Crores. Crores! And see what they have done to me. I told them that I didn't want a penny and walked off. Do you see this mobile phone? This is mine. I didn't even have money for the bus... I walked seven KM saar! Seven KM!"
He told his sad story. I was wary of him but Sam, as always, started his anthropo-neuro-psychological study, yet again. Sam introduced himself. Mr. Partha exclaimed, "So you are a doctor in Victoria? I know your chief... what's his name again?" Sam told him the Chief's name. "Ah yes! Same person. How is he? Don't tell him you met me here eh?" And he laughed that psychotic laugh again and said "I normally drink only in 3-star bars. But today..." He diverted his attention to me and said "...But today because of those bastards!" He tried to muffle his sobs. He wiped the tears with the sleeve of his dirty shirt.

I remained impassive. However, the trio on the bench were nonplussed and moved. The leader of the bench trio asked us in Kannada, "Yen aayithhu Saar? Ishtu Chennaga Ingleesh Maathadthaa idhaaney!" (or something to that effect) Sam explained to the bench trio about Mr. Partha and how his Contracting firm conned him of Crores. The leader of the trio immediately asked one of his gang members to stand up and make place for Mr. Partha.

Mr. Partha bummed a smoke from Leader as he sat down. He even spoke in broken Kannada. "I am an Iyengar sir. I can dictate 600 words a minute you know?" I nodded as I didn't know how the hell I should react to such a monumental statement. So I turned away and adjusted my position in that cubbyhole that was the bar behind Sapthagiri wines. I hardly had space to move my arm. With my back to Mr. Partha, I told Sam that we should be leaving. Sam nodded and he noticed that Mr. Partha was now putting a scheme on the trio. I lost interest, I mean I knew what his game was.

Mr. Partha called me after a few minutes. I turned around with a lot of difficulty. And he dropped his pitch on me.
"Don't mistake me..." He started, sipping on the whisky that he'd bummed from the trio who were sobbing now after listening to Mr. Partha's story.
"...I have to go to Chennai to meet my business partners." He paused as the Leader offered him some spicy Chicken.
"...I have to meet my partners in Chennai, and I left all my ATM cards in those bastards' office...can you give me 200 Rupees?" A brief silence ensued and it was broken by Manja, the waiter-boy, shouting out an order to the Counter: 'Half Khoday's rummu, ondhu packet Small illi!" I stared into Mr. Partha's eyes that were lodged in deep sockets. I smiled and said "If I had 200, why would I drink here?"

He chewed on it for a little while and said "Yes yes. How about 50? At least 20?" I said no. He shrugged as if he forgave me, started to say something, and decided against it. He returned his focus on the trio and started his pitch.

As I was leaving with Sam, he called out and said "Don't mistake me, ok?" I smiled and waved a bye to him. As I waited near the Counter to settle our bill, I could hear him swear at his Contracting firm and sob. I thought I also heard
"If not 500, at least 200? Yes, yes. I will transfer it online."
"..."
"Oh you don't have Internet okay! I'll give you a check, yes? Wonderful... Yeah just one more 60 for me sir... can't drink too much!"

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