Tag: how to befriend a crow

  • I blame the crows

    I blame the crows

    How I started backyard bird watching

    The daily interactions with the friendly crows in my trees brought out the bird watcher in me. Not the one with a fancy camera that disappears into the woods for days in search of an elusive bird. No. I am a proud backyard bird watcher. Funny, isn’t it? Until two months ago, I never knew such a thing existed. Now, I can’t help but notice the other birds in the yard. Backyard bird watching is an all-out obsession now. My search engine is filled with phrases like “black bird with long forked tail” or “small bird with long beak looks kinda green.”

    All I need for this hobby is a small yellow notepad and in it is a growing list of birds. Sometimes I add a random description – Rufous Treepie, the bird someone thinks says ‘Kunchacko Boban’.


    Rufous Treepie – Photo by Mosharraf Hossain on Unsplash

    All my life, other than the commonly seen crows, pigeons, or kingfishers, I’ve only ever named birds by the sounds they made. The bird that made a koo-ooo sound was a cuckoo. I couldn’t be more wrong; it’s actually an Asian Koel, folks! But now, with my newfound hobby, I can spot an Asian bee eater as it swoops down to catch an insect. Or know it’s a group of Yellow-Billed Babblers hopping around, not sparrows. I can follow the sound of whistling to find warblers on my chilly plant and their cousins, the tailor birds, that have been stitching up nests on our crotons for years.

    • Bee eater - Photo by Neel Parikh on Unsplash
    • Asian Koel - Photo by viswaprem anbarasapandian on Unsplash
    • Warbler - Image by pevank01 from Pixabay
    • Babbler - Photo by viswaprem anbarasapandian on Unsplash

    What’s so great about bulbuls?

    Red-vented Bulbuls, a commonly found bird in these parts, are my favourite species. Ironically, these territorial birds swoop on my cat whenever he passes by. The bulbul does not know that I raised a cat who needs his chicken cut into bite-sized pieces or that he prefers a Kerala-style fish curry to raw fish. Eating a bird with feathers? Nah, he can’t be bothered.

    And yet, I am invested in the life of the bulbuls. It was just a few years ago that a pair of them built a nest on a beanstalk during monsoon. The wind was terrible that year and threatened to blow the nest away. The mama and papa birds could only helplessly watch while the nest with their precious hatchlings swayed dangerously in the wind. To everyone’s relief, they survived. The bulbuls have stayed on since, building nests in the oddest of places. (More on that in the next newsletter, so do remember to sign up.)

    When peacocks move into a town

    Did I mention the peacocks? Thanks to all those school years trying to perfect a peacock in arts & crafts class, I had no trouble recognising a muster that landed in my yard one day. Fine, they are hard to miss being our national bird and all. And yes, I admit, their tails are a dead giveaway. Still, an exciting find, don’t you think? These days I find peafowl perched on coconut trees, terraces, and tall towers all over the neighbourhood. They know they are welcome in everyone’s yard. Although the last time, a peahen stopped by to sample our mangoes, Coco, my dog, would have none of it and chased it out.

    • Peacock Photo by Ricardo Porto on Unsplash
    • Red-vented Bulbul Photo by Ugyen Tenzin on Unsplash

    There are a few birds that are proving more elusive since I only know them by their birdsong: the creepy RaaZ bird and the early morning bird.

    The creepy Raaz bird: Now, if you’ve watched the Hindi horror movie Raaz, you might remember hearing a bird screech just as the ghost shows up. I hear a birdsong that remotely resembles the one from the movie every now and then and it spooks me every single time.

    An annoyingly early morning bird: I’m keen to know this bird’s name only because I loathe it. The birdsong starts slow, then quickly increases in pitch and ends in a staccato. Sure, it is melodious to the ear, but it reminds me of many school nights when I had to stay awake to complete a project or cram for a test. And the birdsong signaled that it was time to wake up and get ready for school!

    That being said, I’ve really begun to enjoy this hobby and would recommend it to anyone with access to a little bit of green cover.

    Why it’s worth bird watching in your backyard

    For one, this bird watching business in your backyard is a really inexpensive hobby, and if you can sketch a bird or two, that’s a bonus.

    In case you are wondering where you could use this hobby, let me suggest a scenario: You’re at a gathering, probably tired of the commentary on your life. Mid-way through a conversation, you call out loud, “Did you guys see that Eastern Barn Owl? Let’s hope it doesn’t carry your chickens away.” And chuckle. It doesn’t matter that neither the owl nor the chickens exist. Your audience will be shocked into silence, at least for a moment. Try it. Be weird. It’s 2026.

    In the meantime, I am going to continue bird watching in my backyard and add to the list of birds on my yellow notepad. A local bird watching forum for my town states that around 100 species of birds were spotted last year! I hope to be able to spot at least a fraction of that this year.

    Note: The pictures in this article were sourced from other photographers. Coco, my self-appointed guardian, insists on sticking close by. She thinks I need rescuing from spiders and tree frogs, who have decided that the best time to jump is when I’m already on edge!

    So, what birds can you spot in your neighbourhood? Drop a comment below and sign up for more updates.

  • How to befriend a crow – like my mother did

    How to befriend a crow – like my mother did

    Something strange happened this summer. My mother befriended a couple of crows and didn’t even know it. Did my mother unknowingly become an expert on how to befriend a crow?

    You see, every summer, we place a bowl or bucket of water for the birds and animals that frequent the yard. Be it squirrels, yellow-billed babblers, mynas, kingfishers, red-vented bulbuls, crows or a whole host of other birds I don’t recognise. In the past, it was the territorial bulbuls or the babblers that dominated the water bowl. But this time, two crows have taken over.

    For days, I observed the crows hanging around the trees closest to the house. One crow seemed plumper and bolder, while the other looked younger and unsure. It’s not that we have never had crows linger around, but it seemed like they were getting bolder. The birds cawed at us if the water was not filled to the brim or whenever they ‘accidentally’ knocked the bowl over. Several times, I caught them watching me from the tree and even spotted them on the washbasin outside the house.

    Decoding the mystery of the crows

    Like most South Indian homes, we have a basin installed outside the house, where we clean fish or chicken, basically, anything messy or stinky. In recent years, we raised the basin onto a platform and started using it more frequently. As I watched the crows, it struck me. The washbasin had suddenly become the centre of attention.

    There was another reason, too.

    How to befriend a crow?

    Whenever my mother cleaned meat, the scraps got portioned out immediately. Some went to the dog for its service in chasing away the mosquitoes and flies bothering my mother. The cat got a share too. And no. The cat offered no help and always tried to swipe a piece of two.

    Cat eyeing a fish
    The cat mewing non-stop
    Coco hates crows but help with chores
    Coco the dog helping with chores

    The crows got the pieces that neither the cat nor the dog wanted. While we used to bury unwanted scraps in the past, these days we are less keen to dig a hole. Backaches, weak muscles, a summer-hardened ground, the heat, perpetually misplaced spade – the reasons are endless.

    But that meant the birds were getting more. And that is how my mother managed to befriend a crow. Curiously, the crows have started asking for more lately. Perched cautiously on the tap, they watch us keenly to see how fairly we distribute the scraps.

    The crows are, in reality, well-fed by our religious neighbours who set out an offering of fruits and rice for these birds every morning. And yet, the crows choose to sit on the mango tree and watch all that goes on in our house– from the fish vendor at the gate to the trips to the chicken shop, they see it all. What’s worse, they want a part of it. And I know I shouldn’t feel bad when the crows caw at me for the piece of chicken I want to give the dog, but I still feel guilty. Perhaps the crows have learnt to play tricks on my mind.

    The gift-giving crows

    Funnily, though, these crows have started bringing little treats for the dog. The same dog who would rush out the door if you say, “Coco, the crows are taking your food,” is now finding crab legs and fish heads under the tree. Once, we even found a piece of fried fish. The latest was a piece of jalebi that I had to pry out of the dog’s mouth.

    I try not to think of the distraught person from whom the crows have been stealing. Instead, I only wish the crows would bring us an occasional treat. It’s not too much to ask, is it? Surely there must be a way to train them. Aren’t there stories of crows gifting humans with hair ties and coins? I’d like a coin too, especially in this economy.

    But then I sometimes wonder: Was the jalebi actually meant for my mother? Did the dog beat her to it?

    My mother can’t be bothered to check, so I have to go now and look under the tree.

    While I do that, what would you do to get better treats from your friendly neighbourhood crow? Let me know in the comments.