This game park neither boast of tigers nor vultures on treetops. It doesn’t even have the fairy-tale appearance of a jungle. In fact, it’s beauty lies in its less-than-a-jungle-like appearance. We are talking of the Keoladeo National Park. I visited the park more by coincidence. We had lost our way. We were headed for Agra from Delhi. None of us knew the route. So we constantly followed the map. By the time the map reached my hands, I, as is my wont, lost directions. And we headed straight for Bharatpur instead. By the time we knew we were wrong, it was quite late. Keoladeo made up for that disaster as most of us, in our group, were budding environmentalists and avid bird watchers. My friends were charitable though. They found me straight out of the book: “Why women can’t read maps: And Won’t Stop Talking.” Darkness had descended on Bharatpur by the time we arrived. So we busied ourselves hunting for bed and dinner.

                            Early next morning, we were ready to date the birds at 5:30. That’s when bird watching is at its best. Keoladeo National Park, in Rajasthan’s Bharatpur district. It was originally the private hunting ground of the maharajas of Bharatpur and converted into a bird sanctuary in 1956. It attained the “national park” status in 1981.

                             Keoladeo’s major attraction are the charismatic and alluring Siberian cranes. Studies prove that they arrive at the park after travelling 6, 400 km from their Siberian home. It’s the only regular wintering area in India for these cranes, among the world’s most endangered species. Bharatpur is a green town. You notice the difference when you drive from Ranthambore. It is visibly much greener and the trees look healthier than Ranthambore’s

                            anorexic trees. Motorised vehicles are not allowed inside. You can only enter the park on rickshaws, bicycles or on foot. Which means that there are no blaring horns or dirty diesel fumes from overworked fuel tanks of jeeps. We were a sporty lot, so we all hired cycles to allow us to spot the birds at our convenience. And we yelled out at our first sighting: “It is an eagle…no its is a dusky owl. It’s koel…no it is a parrot.” It turned out to be a crow. That’s when we settled for Kumarji to guide us through the sanctuary.

                               There’s hardly much on view as you enter the park, except for monkeys, more monkeys and still more monkeys. You have to get closer to the wetlands to make the first of your spottings. Wetlands comprise over one-third of Keoladeo. You come across a lot of parrots, and the occasional bulbul. Trees like ber, khajur, babul and peepeul cover the park, providing ample shade to the surroundings. A lot of migratory visitors flock to this park and it’s a quite a sight to view them carrying camera stands on their backs and riding cycles. It seemed that our feathered friends had a little club of their own with these visitors. At the first turn we took, we came across pythons. I came to know that the park is famous for snakes — pythons, cobras, vipers, kraits, wolf-snakes, you name it and they are there. These creatures can be seen lounging near the swamps in the sun. There’s also one of India’s most endangered species the Indian rock python. Sadly, we missed an appointment with it and I came to know of it only after we had left the park.