Ihtisham Kabir

Birders may go through many phases in their birding life.

We are a perpetually curious group. Like members of secret societies of the Middle Ages, we quickly recognize each other.

Whenever I hear “Thick-knee” I think of Majeda Haq, birder, conservationist and friend who left this world too soon in 2019.

We all have our notion of “good-looking” when it comes to people. This idea extends to other creatures.

One of my most memorable jobs was being waiter. My cousins in Chicago had invited me to spend the summer after college freshman year. Looking for summer work there, I responded to a newspaper advertisement and was hired after an interview. My title was Waiter at the restaurant of Metropolitan Club on the 67th floor of Chicago’s Sears (now Willis) Tower.

Screaming loudly and wildly flapping their wings, the ducks abruptly took off from the water about two hundred feet from our boat.

The Red Munia entered my childhood through a story about the Creator painting birds after creating them. However, one fidgety bird has flown off before being painted and returns just when He finishes. There are a few drops of paint remaining with which He splatters this bird. And so this exquisite bird was created with spots of white sprinkled on red.

On a summer morning several years ago I climbed up the watchtower in Satchori National Park looking for birds. In two hours I saw little.