THE CUCKOO TRAP

When we left our ancestral house of 150 years, we moved to one that had a lot of open space. Being fond of gardening, I wanted lovely flowers. But I had a tough choice – trees or flowers. As an environmentalist I opted for trees like neem and ashoka, which have thick foliage. This meant little sunlight and even fewer flowers.

The variety of birds and butterflies in the garden more than compensated the loss of flowers. My father, who was a member of the Bombay Natural History Society and National Geographic (long before the advent of TV), taught me to recognise and identify birds, aided by Salim Ali’s classic “The Book of Indian Birds”. So I quite enjoy bird watching, not necessarily limited to the feathered species!

There are two birds that seem to be deeply ingrained in Indian culture – the peacock and the koel (Indian cuckoo – zoological name – Eudynamys scolocea). Today the koel’s call is heard more on door chimes and mobile ring tones, than in gardens. I am not enamoured of koels. Let me tell you why.

Remember the scene from “Three Idiots”, where Dr Virus says that winners take all. He uses the cuckoo’s nest as an example, with an egg being dropped to the ground. Unfortunately, Dr Virus did not know that cuckoos don’t have nests. They lay their eggs in the nests of other birds.

The koel, cuckoo that it is, is a slender version of a crow. The male is shining black, with a yellow beak and beady red eyes. The female is spotted brown. It lays its eggs in the crow’s nest. The pale greyish green eggs are similar to the crow’s. The gullible crows literally do not know what is hatching! Meanwhile the koel flits around caring a damn. When the eggs hatch, the koel fledgling is far more aggressive and strident than the crow’s. It pushes the crow’s fledglings out of the nest.

Last month I saw this drama unfold in my garden. The koel’s cry is high pitched. The fledgling screeched like the plaintive bleat of a lamb to the slaughter. The hapless crows would rush to feed it. While other fledglings like the bulbuls and pied wagtails learnt to fly and fend for themselves, the koel kept shrieking, pressurising the crows to feed it.

In ornithology the koel’s behaviour is called parasitical – feeding off others, depriving them of their due, or taking undue advantage of the gullibility or susceptibility of the other. It made me think. Who are the parasites in Indian society today? They are cunning or shining masqueraders, who live off an unsuspecting public.

Steven D Levitt, in his bestseller “Freakonomics – The Hidden Side of Everything”, says that as the world has grown more specialised, there have evolved countless experts who enjoy a “gigantic informational advantage”. This coign of vantage is often used to exploit gullible dependents. Levitt counts doctors, lawyers, contractors and auto mechanics among the “advantaged”, that exploit the ignorance of the other. He observes that “In a medical study, it turned out that obstetricians in areas with declining birth rates are much more likely to perform caesarean section deliveries – suggesting that when business is tough, doctors try to ring up more expensive procedures”.

Levitt also admits that, as with corruption or domestic violence, “It is one thing to muse about experts abusing their position, and another to prove it. The best way to do so would be to measure how an expert treats you, versus how he performs the same service for himself”.

Annaji, ofcourse, would have us believe that the much-maligned politician is the real cuckoo, feeding off others. To a large extent he is correct. Politicians, like actresses and sportspersons, have a limited shelf life, so the corrupt ones would definitely try to “feather their nests” while the going was good. However, I believe that those with a longer innings, and a greater “informational advantage” are the real cuckoos.

Remember the British serial “Yes Minister”, and its pathetic Hindi version “Ji Mantriji”? The senior bureaucrat is the one who wraps the unlettered minister around his little finger, quoting rules and regulations to scuttle the minister’s plans. It is these high level bureaucrats who influence policymaking, its implementation or otherwise, who are the real cuckoos. Do a reality check. Ask them for a house allotment, and compare it to how they get their own allotments done. Need I say more?

A layman will agree with Levitt that the lawyer, doctor or auto mechanic has a “gigantic informational advantage”. But in India pride of place should go to the bureaucrat, not so much the executive one, as the policy maker. They have even scuttled all attempts at administrative reforms, that is the root cause of corruption (Annaji please note). To the list of Indian cuckoos I must add educationists and religious leaders. You can’t cross swords with them for fear of failure or eternal damnation!

There was a guy called A. Crowe, who was always teased as “a crow”. A friend suggested that he use his first name. It was Adam. That made it worse – a damn crow! Will the damned crows of India arise? Identify the cuckoos before you get trapped. Be a good ornithologist, lest you end up at a psychiatrist!

4th October 2011