Dance of the demoiselle crane
Once every year Khichan, a dusty village in Rajasthan, turns into a diner for the long-necked birds from Mongolia and Eurasia.
It’s that time at dawn when the dark blues begin to ooze out of the blackness of the sky. In the dusty, nondescript Khichan village in western Rajasthan, the first of temple bhajans have begun their low-volume drone, aimed seemingly not at stirring the faithful to worship but lulling them further into somnolence.
But, even before the liturgies can crackle into life, the dark-blue sky begins to erupts in squeaks, at first distant and faint but soon nearer, shriller and urgent. And before long, they overwhelm any sounds emanating from the village making sleeping impossible. In a near-perfect V-formation, wave after wave of silhouetted demoiselle cranes descend on Khichan announcing their arrival. At first they arrive in groups of a dozen but as the morning progresses, multitudes of them fly in, blackening the brightening sky.
It all began in the early 1980s when villagers belonging to the Jain community began putting out bird feed. This attracted the migratory demoiselle cranes which at that time did not number more than 200 at the feeding grounds. But, after decades of sustained feeding, as many as 20,000 of them arrive here each winter charting a long perilous journey from Mongolia and Eurasia. The first of the birds begin to trickle in by late August. By January they are 20,000 strong. And as the temperatures begin to soar in Rajasthan in March, all fly back to Mongolia with very few remaining till early April.
The village has apportioned a fairly largish feeding enclosure for the demoiselle cranes, named so, as per some accounts by none other than Queen of France, Mary Antoinette (of the ‘Let them eat cake’ fame) for their maiden-like elegance and coyness. Locally however, they are known simply as Kurja. They have been traditionally revered in this part of Rajasthan and find mention in folk songs going back almost a hundred years.
The feeding enclosure sits amidst a row of houses. The cranes are shy and tentative even though they have been performing the same ritual in Khichan for years. They let the pigeons have a go first while they swoop down on empty lots around the feeding enclosure. Most of them however roost on the sand dunes just behind the enclosure, from where they take off intermittently in batches flying past the feeding ground as if checking if its time to land and feed.
Gathered in large groups, the demoiselle cranes, smallest of the crane species, are a pleasure to watch. They move this way and that together like in a ballet, their wide red eyes sparkling in the morning sun.
It’s not until 8.30 am, almost two hours after they have flown in, that they begin to descend into the enclosure. But it’s always in batches, as if they are aware there isn’t space for them all. They feed, they fly and circle, they roost until about 11.30 am when everyone has had their fill. After which they ascend higher and higher into the thermals and by late afternoon vanish, leaving Khichan gutted in silence.
These shy birds don’t stay on in the village in the evening. They spend the night in the water logged plains or salt beds 30 km off Khichan.
I meet a man at the salt beds who said he regularly rescues the injured cranes, attacked by feral dogs, taking them on his bike to an animal-care center.
Sevaram, whose house adjoins the feeding enclosure is a militant bird campaigner known for uprooting electricity poles that come in the cranes’ path.
This is in keeping with the Rajasthani people’s love for the wild, many of whom, like the Bishnoi community, revere all living things including plants as part of their religious tenant.
“If we have a problem we can speak. These birds cannot. Therefore, they deserve all our attention and empathy,” says Sevaram.
It’s because of this affection that more and more demoiselle cranes are coming to Khichan every winter. But whatever their number, the villagers make sure they have laid out enough bird-feed to feed them all.
Getting there: Khichan can be reached both from Jodhpur and Jaisalmer by road. It’s 144 km from Jodhpur and 171 km from Jaisalmer
Staying there: If you can rough it out, then Sevaram’s guest house is the best bet as its right next to the bird-feeding enclosure from where you can get a ring-side view of the cranes. More comfortable accommodations are available at Phalodi town less than seven kilometers away. You can choose between Lal Niwas, Kurja Resort or Kurja Camp there.
It’s that time at dawn when the dark blues begin to ooze out of the blackness of the sky. In the dusty, nondescript Khichan village in western Rajasthan, the first of temple bhajans have begun their low-volume drone, aimed seemingly not at stirring the faithful to worship but lulling them further into somnolence.
But, even before the liturgies can crackle into life, the dark-blue sky begins to erupts in squeaks, at first distant and faint but soon nearer, shriller and urgent. And before long, they overwhelm any sounds emanating from the village making sleeping impossible. In a near-perfect V-formation, wave after wave of silhouetted demoiselle cranes descend on Khichan announcing their arrival. At first they arrive in groups of a dozen but as the morning progresses, multitudes of them fly in, blackening the brightening sky.
Until a decade or two ago, Khichan was just another forgotten village 144 km north-west of Jodhpur. Today it’s on the world map, famous as the Demoiselle Crane Village, attracting bird lovers, photographers and tourists alike from India and abroad.
It all began in the early 1980s when villagers belonging to the Jain community began putting out bird feed. This attracted the migratory demoiselle cranes which at that time did not number more than 200 at the feeding grounds. But, after decades of sustained feeding, as many as 20,000 of them arrive here each winter charting a long perilous journey from Mongolia and Eurasia. The first of the birds begin to trickle in by late August. By January they are 20,000 strong. And as the temperatures begin to soar in Rajasthan in March, all fly back to Mongolia with very few remaining till early April.
The village has apportioned a fairly largish feeding enclosure for the demoiselle cranes, named so, as per some accounts by none other than Queen of France, Mary Antoinette (of the ‘Let them eat cake’ fame) for their maiden-like elegance and coyness. Locally however, they are known simply as Kurja. They have been traditionally revered in this part of Rajasthan and find mention in folk songs going back almost a hundred years.
The feeding enclosure sits amidst a row of houses. The cranes are shy and tentative even though they have been performing the same ritual in Khichan for years. They let the pigeons have a go first while they swoop down on empty lots around the feeding enclosure. Most of them however roost on the sand dunes just behind the enclosure, from where they take off intermittently in batches flying past the feeding ground as if checking if its time to land and feed.
Gathered in large groups, the demoiselle cranes, smallest of the crane species, are a pleasure to watch. They move this way and that together like in a ballet, their wide red eyes sparkling in the morning sun.
It’s not until 8.30 am, almost two hours after they have flown in, that they begin to descend into the enclosure. But it’s always in batches, as if they are aware there isn’t space for them all. They feed, they fly and circle, they roost until about 11.30 am when everyone has had their fill. After which they ascend higher and higher into the thermals and by late afternoon vanish, leaving Khichan gutted in silence.
These shy birds don’t stay on in the village in the evening. They spend the night in the water logged plains or salt beds 30 km off Khichan.
I meet a man at the salt beds who said he regularly rescues the injured cranes, attacked by feral dogs, taking them on his bike to an animal-care center.
Sevaram, whose house adjoins the feeding enclosure is a militant bird campaigner known for uprooting electricity poles that come in the cranes’ path.
This is in keeping with the Rajasthani people’s love for the wild, many of whom, like the Bishnoi community, revere all living things including plants as part of their religious tenant.
“If we have a problem we can speak. These birds cannot. Therefore, they deserve all our attention and empathy,” says Sevaram.
It’s because of this affection that more and more demoiselle cranes are coming to Khichan every winter. But whatever their number, the villagers make sure they have laid out enough bird-feed to feed them all.
Getting there: Khichan can be reached both from Jodhpur and Jaisalmer by road. It’s 144 km from Jodhpur and 171 km from Jaisalmer
Staying there: If you can rough it out, then Sevaram’s guest house is the best bet as its right next to the bird-feeding enclosure from where you can get a ring-side view of the cranes. More comfortable accommodations are available at Phalodi town less than seven kilometers away. You can choose between Lal Niwas, Kurja Resort or Kurja Camp there.
