It was a Holud Pakhi (as famously known in Bangla. Literal translation being “yellow(Holud) bird (Pakhi)”)..Commonly known as an Oriole..a lovely bright yellow bird of the genus Sphecotheres. Order Passeriformes, Suborder Passeri.
There it was, on a sleek branch of the mango tree against the soft green iridescent young mango leaves, perfectly poised in the most beautiful composition I could have ever imagined. My hands automatically reached to where the camera would usually hang around my neck, but alas! My camera rested peacefully in the bedroom upstairs with its batteries on the charger and the memory card neatly inserted in its case. Yes Mr. Murphy, you proved your point.
To tear my eyes away from the magical yellow bird, its soft powdery yellow plumage was difficult. My brain attempted to prioritize between standing there and drinking down that divine sight or running as fast as I possibly could to retrieve my camera, stuff it with its necessary anatomical organs and run even faster downstairs (in spite of having been told to stop pretending that the stairs are a teleporting machine )
Needless to say, I ran…
The bird sweetly calling after me, probably singing “Ha ha ..you can’t catch me. Idiot optimistic you be.”
I prayed for some sort of divine intervention to make the bird stay..but of course ..all prayers were futile. The Holud Pakhi had moved to a leafy niche from where I could only obtain a very bad shot of the bird’s fancy yellow rear even when I tried my best. After a few minutes of capricious flitting about, it flew away.
I stood by the window with a broken heart and only a very bad shot.
“NO. This bird must be captured in all its glory.” I thought and waited by the window without really realizing how long the wait would end up being.
Project Holud Pakhi had commenced.
About 30 minutes passed before my aunt started wondering what had made a jittery Gremlin (me) stay motionlessly at one place for so long. I explained the situation to her and she parted with some important inside information on the subject. Apparently the bird only graces the mango tree by its presence..and very rarely is the Musanda plant deemed fit for her highness’s fancy golden derriere. (Judging the bird by its whimsical trots and flamboyant flourishes I took the liberty to assume that it must be a female. Though male birds are more flamboyant in appearance, this one was rather distinguished in its demeanor.)
Time passed slowly and occasionally I’d hear the bird’s call which made me run upstairs for a better view. I caught a glimpse of the bird almost twice in about 8 times of running upstairs and downstairs, 40 to 50 odd minutes of being roasted in the hot mid day sun on the terrace….only to see it fly away in tremendous hurry..where to? ..maybe even the Sun God himself does not know.
Exhausted, I sat by the window with a couple of books and yet another cup of coffee, periodically scanning the mango tree and the Musanda plant.
Time so passed that the leaves and the sunlight started playing cruel mind games with me. Every moving leaf I hallucinated to be the prodigal bird’s blessed return. My ears stood up and my eyes narrowed at every bird’s call. My ability to think straight was fogged by sudden flashes of powdery sunlight slipping off polished mango leaves pretending to be the golden bird I longed for.
My uncle notices the sorry state and says “Miss call de pakhi ta ke….akta miss call de” (give the bird a miss call)…but I was numb to humor…impatience numbed hunger, numbed thirst..and gradually numbed enthusiasm.
Eventually, for the lack of any sign of the Holud Pakhi’s return,
Project Holud Pakhi transmogrified to Project Tuntuni Pakhi (Sunbird?)
..another painfully small and swift bird to capture. Before I’d pick up my camera to look through the view-finder, the little Sunbird would have long disappeared..yielding an exclamatory “osshobho kothakar!!” (Shameless thing!!) from my lips. 9 days of Kolkata and a Bangla influence already, I tell you
Project Bulbuli Pakhi (Bulbul) followed....
so did Project Chorui Pakhi (Sparrow)
Followed by Project Mayna Pakhi (Maynah),
Project Bok (Stork),
Project Machranga (Kingfisher),
Project Payra (Pegion),
Project Kathbirali (Squirrel),
Project Phoring (Dragonfly?)
…..ending with a miserable Project Kaak (Crow)..without a single visit from the Holud Pakhi.
I sighed….birds….they are like beautiful unfaithful lovers. They will wrap you up in a wondrous rapture, leave you starry eyed with a thousand sweet promises in their transient sweet songs..perch upon the nimble tendril and flaunt their colours, preen themselves and make you wish for wings just so you could be a part of that dreamland they belong to…wish for that freedom ..wish for a complete surrender to a wanderlust only birds are capable of comprehending.
I picked up the numerous coffee cups and strewn unread books for the Sun began to bid adieu. Promising myself to sleep early for an early commencement of the next day’s Project Holud Pakhi , I left the window humming-
Sei je Holud Pakhi
Boshe Jamrul gaacher daale
Korto dakadaki
Amar shaishaber shokale
Ekdin galo ure
Janina kon sudure
Phirbe na she ki phirbe na?
Phirbe na aar kono din?
A rough translation of the song-
( That yellow bird, sitting on the Jamrul tree, used to sing in my childhood. One day it flew away, I don’t know to which faraway place, Will it not return? Will it not return ever?)
This is the link to the song on youtube if you wish to listen-
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CEqXe8LNYbc&feature=related



