With improved technology and a much greater appetite among the young for books to remind them of the wonderful biosphere in which they live, it is heartening to see how many new, high-quality publications are emerging from within India. Here are two books that Sanctuary believes should be in every public library and in the homes of all those whose hearts beat to nature’s drum.

The Search for India’s Rarest Birds
Edited by Shashank Dalvi and
Anita Mani
Published by Juggernaut
Paperback, Pages: 266, Price: Rs. 499
Think of birdwatching and, for most people, the image that comes to mind is of a silver-haired retiree watching birds in the garden, notebook in hand, quietly noting down their names. And there is no denying that this, too, is a beautiful way to watch birds. But, the hobby has many dimensions and different styles, and has grown into a global, multi-billion-dollar industry. There are those who book their tickets the moment news breaks of a rare sighting thousands of kilometres away, hoping for a fleeting glimpse of an avian wonder that you might miss if you wait till tomorrow, and there are others driven by the dream of making history by rediscovering a species thought lost for decades or even centuries. Though popular culture paints birdwatching as a calm and peaceful pastime, it can be just as messy, high-adrenaline and competitive, a world of relentless obsession where, to be honest, there are winners and losers. Bringing a slice of this otherwise hidden world of birdwatching to the public eye is The Search for India’s Rarest Birds, edited by Shashank Dalvi and Anita Mani.
Most writing on India’s avians tends to be either field guides or scientific papers, whether by professional ornithologists or dedicated amateurs. There is, of course, excellent ornithological research being done in India and several practical guides, yet today there remains relatively little narrative or popular writing that feels accessible to the general reader or to someone outside the world of wildlife. However, that seems to be changing. The Search for India’s Rarest Birds is without doubt a wonderful step towards filling that void many of us birdwatchers have long felt. Indian Pitta Books, India’s first dedicated imprint for bird and nature lovers, has made it a reality. The book is perception-shifting, successfully conveying to the reader the adrenaline rush and heart-pounding silence of being just moments away from a rare bird find. The ensemble of writers is well chosen, offering a delightful mix of voices and a birding story for everyone.
Scattered through these pages are the names and tales that anyone in India’s birdwatching circles will instantly recognise. Among the authors is Bharat Bhushan, who famously rediscovered the Jerdon’s Courser in 1986 after it had vanished from records for decades – a bird that even today only a handful of people have seen in India. Pamela C. Rasmussen takes us behind the scenes of her quest that brought the elusive Forest Owlet back into the light after more than a hundred years of mystery. Praveen J. dives into the world of the laughingthrushes of the Western Ghats’ sky islands, while Aasheesh Pittie opens the book with the tragic story of the Pink-headed Duck, a bird that has now vanished forever. There are pages in this book that make you want to lean over to the person next to you and whisper, “The name of the guy I met on a birding trip is in here,” or launch into a rant about the rare bird that’s still on your target list, or recount the near-miss from your last trip when it almost did, but eventually didn’t, appear.
With the popularisation of eBird, an online global database for birdwatchers to record their sightings, and Merlin, an app primarily for bird identification, it has become easier for birdwatchers and researchers to collect data. This, in turn, fuels analysis and scientific publications, informs policy, and strengthens conservation efforts, making the most of citizen science. At the same time, these tools have drawn many people into birdwatching as an activity of lists, numbers, and ID photographs – all, of course, of great value in their own right. But what of storytelling itself – the act of recording observations in words, weaving in allusions, making sketches, and simply being present in the moment, perhaps in a way that feels a little old-fashioned today? In less than 300 pages, this book makes a perfect case for storytelling to prevail in birdwatching, showing how narrative can enrich the hobby in ways that lists, numbers, and apps alone cannot.
The book has 12 chapters, of which 10 focus on a particular rare bird species, tracing the adventures of the birdwatcher or researcher pursuing it while also revealing the strategy, science, and preparation behind each quest. Sometimes months are spent gathering every scrap of data, planning every step, and testing one’s luck in the field. Other times, it’s a chance encounter that delivers the prize. All these different flavours of birdwatching, especially the high-stakes world of rare bird quests, are vividly captured, making it an immersive read.
I thoroughly enjoyed the 11th chapter, Twitching Tales by Atul Jain. A twitcher is an informal term for a birdwatcher whose main goal is to collect sightings of rare birds, and Jain writes with infectious humour about the lengths he has gone to in pursuit of rarities. From the Chin Hills of Mizoram to Narcondam Island in the Andaman and Nicobar Islands (the only place on Earth to see the endemic Narcondam Hornbill), his tales take the reader on a whirlwind journey across India in search of its holy-grail birds. These are the kind of species or vagrants that, if you don’t go see today, might be gone tomorrow. Jain also weaves in the relatable chaos of juggling work, life, and the irresistible itch to chase the next sighting. Rarities are fickle; they appear without warning and may vanish for years, even decades, and Jain captures that unpredictable thrill brilliantly in his chapter.
The book came into my hands when I was on my own quest for India’s rare birds, returning from Eaglenest after a sighting of the Bugun Liocichla, a bird found only in the Singchung Bugun Village Community Reserve near the Eaglenest Wildlife Sanctuary in Arunachal Pradesh. These days, anyone who visits is likely to see it, but the thrill remains. The book mentions this very bird, and how, in 1995, Ramana Athreya documented a species previously unknown to science, one of only five new bird species described from India after Independence. Reading it gave me new targets and, in a way, a roadmap for how to chase them. On its cover is a beautifully illustrated Jerdon’s Courser, a bird unseen for about 16 years, but reported again by birdwatchers this year in August. While it’s a book that would be loved by birders, it’s equally one for anyone who enjoys adventure, mystery, and the poetry of the natural world. I can only hope more volumes will follow, because India’s avifauna, and its dedicated birding battalion, still have so many stories to tell!
Reviewed by Rithwik Sundar