When Birds Lived Among Us

There was a time, not long ago, when dawn unfolded gently and morning arrived on soft wings. It was not with alarms or flashing screens, but with the fluttering of pigeons, the cawing of crows perched on boundary walls, and the crowing of the neighbourhood rooster. Birds once belonged not just to the sky, but to the quiet rhythm of our waking world. They weren’t distant; they were family, folklore, and timekeepers. Their presence marked celebration, rain, rest, and travel. In their company, the world felt both vast and intimate, a shared sky between humans and the wild.

But today, something essential feels missing. The sky is quieter, mornings feel flatter, and the world, though noisier, somehow echoes less. Today, let us reflect on the place birds once held and can still hold in our lives, culture, and collective memory.

In Indian tradition, birds are far more than creatures of flight. They are symbols of thought, soul, strength, and mystery woven deeply into the fabric of spiritual thought and folklore. They populate our scriptures not as background figures but as vehicles of gods, bearers of wisdom, and keepers of divine secrets.

• Garuda, the divine eagle, is not merely Lord Vishnu’s mount but a symbol of speed, valour, and the eternal struggle against darkness.

• The Hamsa, graceful and white, is revered as the vehicle of Goddess Saraswati, representing purity, wisdom, and the ability to distinguish the real from the unreal.

• Peacocks, their iridescent feathers catching the rain, are associated with Lord Kartikeya and Lord Krishna, signifying grace, beauty, pride, fertility, and the dance of life.

• Owls, though sacred as the vahana of Goddess Lakshmi, also appear in local beliefs as bearers of dark omens, especially when heard hooting at night.

• The cuckoo, with its sweet cry, is a poetic symbol of love, longing, and the arrival of spring.

• Parrots, vibrant and intelligent, are seen in the hands of Kamadeva, the god of love, and were once believed to carry love letters or messages across villages.

• The dove, found in Mughal miniatures and folk tales alike, stands for peace, innocence, and the gentler side of the human heart.

• Pigeons, ever-present in temple courtyards and public squares, are symbols of endurance, devotion, and homecoming, often messengers in ancient times and quiet keepers of shared spaces in our lives.

• Vultures, once abundant in our skies, became symbols of ill tidings as they often circled above before news of death reached a village. In Kalidasa’s Abhijnanasakuntalam, their silent flight over the abandoned Shakuntala symbolizes sorrow, neglect, and the turning of fate. Yet, beyond their misunderstood image, vultures were deeply respected for their vital role in cleansing, balance, and the renewal of life.

• Jatayu, the noble winged guardian from the Ramayana, symbolizes sacrifice, courage, and the fight against injustice. His attempt to rescue Sita from Ravana, despite knowing he might perish, turned a humble bird into a timeless emblem of dharma and devotion.

Our ancestors saw birds as bridges between realms — the visible and the invisible, the sacred and the mundane, the divine and the daily.

In Indian households, birds were not distant creatures but close companions woven into daily life through utility, affection, intuition, and quiet presence. Hens and ducks wandered freely through courtyards and backyards, not just for their eggs or meat, but as a quiet part of everyday life. Their clucking and quacking filled slow afternoons with familiar sounds. Children often grew fond of them, chasing them playfully or giving them names. Parrots and mynas were the most commonly tamed birds, loved not only for their vivid colours and charm but for their ability to mimic human speech. Parrots, in particular, were taught words, names, mantras, and even verses from scriptures. In folk traditions, they were used for fortune-telling (parrot astrology), selecting cards with their beak to answer the questions of eager seekers. These birds were more than pets — they were part of the household, their presence gently tying everyday life to the rhythm of nature.

Some birds do more than live alongside us — they quietly teach us how to live. The weaver bird, crafting its intricate nest thread by thread, shows us patience, skill, and dedication. The tailorbird, sewing leaves with silk-like fibers, reflects creativity and the art of making do with what’s around. The steady tapping of the woodpecker is a lesson in focus, persistence, and working through resistance. The hornbill, which seals its nest to protect its young, speaks of trust, sacrifice, and devotion. Even the bowerbird, arranging twigs and coloured objects to attract a mate, reminds us that beauty and care have meaning.

For centuries, birds served as the most faithful timekeepers and forecasters in Indian life long before watches or weather apps. The rooster’s call was often the first sound of the morning, waking up households before sunrise and setting the day in motion. As light slowly entered the sky, sparrows and bulbuls began to chirp, adding to the familiar sounds of early morning. By evening, the sight of birds returning to their nests signalled the day’s end, a quiet reminder for everyone to slow down and return home before dark.

Birds often signalled changes in weather and the environment through their behaviour. A sudden silence in the middle of the day often hinted at an approaching storm. Swallows flying low were seen as a sign of incoming rain. Cattle egrets gathering in groups suggested freshly ploughed fields or the movement of livestock nearby. In some regions, the sharp cries of lapwings or cranes at unusual hours were believed to signal danger, such as the presence of a wild predator or a nearby snake.

Birds were also seen as harbingers of death or disruption. A vulture circling overhead, the sudden call of an owl, or the erratic flight of migratory birds were taken seriously, not merely as superstition, but as intuitive responses to ecological disturbance. Such natural signs, once easily read by farmers, forest dwellers, and even children, helped anchor human life within a wider web of nature.

But now, as these signals fade, we lose not just their presence, but a language that once helped us understand the world. The gradual disappearance of birds from our surroundings is more than an ecological concern; it signals a deeper fracture in our relationship with nature.

In India, once-common birds like the house sparrow, bee-eater, and lapwing are now rarely seen in cities. Vultures, once widespread, began to vanish after feeding on cattle carcasses treated with a common veterinary painkiller. Though safe for livestock, the drug proved fatal to these birds, leading to their sudden and tragic decline. Their decline disrupted natural waste cycles and unbalanced local ecosystems. Power lines stretched across open grasslands threaten the endangered great Indian bustard, while shrinking wetlands have driven away migratory birds that once filled our winter skies.

Urbanization has steadily erased nesting spaces, as glass buildings, constant noise, artificial lighting, and pesticide-heavy farming create environments where birds struggle to survive. In these altered landscapes, many can no longer navigate, feed, or communicate as they once did. With their disappearance, we lose not only species, but also cultural markers such as folk beliefs, rituals, rural knowledge systems, and the quiet emotional connections woven into daily life. Their absence is not just silence; it is the fading memory of a time when life and land moved in balance.

Yet this distance is not irreversible. By becoming more aware and intentional, we can make space again for birds to return. Here are some meaningful steps we can take to welcome them back into our lives:

• Plant native trees such as jamun, mango, amaltas, banyan, or neem to offer birds natural food sources and safe nesting spaces.

• Keep clean water bowls on terraces or balconies, especially during the summer, to help birds stay hydrated.

• Avoid using pesticides in gardens and promote organic farming practices within local communities to protect insect life that birds depend on.

• Reduce light pollution by turning off unnecessary terrace lights at night, particularly during migratory seasons.

• Encourage children to observe birds, listen to their calls, and learn their names, bringing back folk stories and bird lore into everyday life.

• Support citizen science by joining local bird counts, birdwatching walks, or contributing to wildlife reporting platforms.

• Help protect sacred groves, village ponds, and forest corridors that have long served as safe havens for birds.

• Read and share literature and poetry about birds to revive the emotional and cultural connections they once held in our shared memory.

These may seem like small steps, but together they create the path for birds to return and for us to reconnect with the natural world we once knew.

Birds have never truly left us, we simply stopped noticing. Their silence is not an absence, but a mirror held to our changing lives. As we built higher, we forgot to look up. As we spoke more, we forgot to listen. But the threads that once connected us are not beyond repair. When a bird returns to a ledge, a branch, or a bowl of water left with care, it is not just a moment of beauty, it is a quiet reminder that belonging is still possible. For in their return, the world becomes whole in a way that progress alone cannot offer.

Subhalakshmi Buragohain

Parrots were once messengers of love.

A vulture hovering often meant something was wrong nearby.

Once part of every home, the sparrow is slowly becoming a memory.