“….and if I don’t see a Monal on this trip, I shall roast a chicken, call it Monal and devour it!”
I grumbled as I huffed and puffed my way up the steep mountain incline in Chopta, Uttarakhand. The rest of my group stifled their grins while our guide assured me that we will definitely come across one. All the same, he looked a bit worried – what if we didn’t see a Monal? My whining must have been ringing direly in his mind.
My earliest memories of seeing a Himalayan Monal pheasant were on a make-shift screen, in the mid-80s, sitting cross legged on the ground with scores of tea garden workers in Manas Wildlife Sanctuary, Assam. It was a documentary on the beautiful bird by Joanna Van Gruisen, who had been residing in Manas as part of another documentary project. I remember watching the movie completely captivated, my mouth agape and my eyes wide open, as the Monal strode regally across the screen, its iridescent colours leaving a deep imprint on my young mind. The documentary was shot in Bhutan, but Joanna told us that the Monal could be found in India, too.
Perhaps that’s how a dream was planted in my heart, of seeing the Himalayan Monal in person one day.
Circa 2021, when we foolishly believed that herd immunity had set in against the Covid-19 pandemic, we set off for Uttarakhand in April to see the exquisite birds of northern Himalayas. The Monal, of course, occupied the top of my wish-list. I was ready to term the trip a disaster if I had to come back without seeing the bird.
A little about the Monal. Native to the Himalayas, this pheasant is the state bird of Uttarakhand, India, and the national bird of Nepal. They are omnivorous and feed on a diet comprising shoots, tubers and other plant matter as well as small insects and invertebrates. The male Himalayan Monal displays intricate courtship rituals, which include performing dance-like movements and showcasing its vibrant plumage. They breed between April and August, forming monogamous pairs during this period, and the female lays 3-6 eggs.
Being a ground dwelling bird and an inhabitant of high mountain regions, the Monal faces significant challenges due to climate change and the loss of biodiversity.
A male Himalayan Monal in all its resplendent glory
A beautiful blue-eyed female Monal
Meanwhile, at Sattal in Uttarakhand, we travelled through terribly winding roads and while we furiously ticked off birds’ names on our wish-list, there was no sight of the Monal. Apparently, we had to go higher up to Chopta and go on a trek to Tungnath, known to house the highest Shiva temple in the world, if we wanted to see our quarry.
“Okay,” I took a deep breath. “Let’s do this!”
Cold morning air lashed us as we left the warm comfort of our vehicle by the side of the road and trudged behind our guide who had announced that we had reached the “Monal point”, or the place where the birds were frequently sighted. We kept our eyes peeled out, although it would be hard to miss its flashy colours. Moments later, the guide sidled up to us quietly and whispered without pointing “There! There, on the cliff!”
And there it was. My dream of seeing a Himalayan Monal had come true.
The majestic Himalayan Monal out for a stroll
I could see perceptible relief wash over the guide’s face. Perhaps somewhere a chicken had also let out a sigh of relief.
That day, in Chopta, we ended up seeing 7 Himalayan Monals. I chuckled out loud when we came upon a Monal foraging like local chicken by the roadside. There were more on the trek to Tungnath the next morning, but that’s a story for another day.
The trip to Uttarakhand was a success in my books – I had seen the Himalayan Monal.
PS: My dad’s senior in the Forest Research Institute in Dehradun had his daughter named Monal. Sometimes I wish my parents were more imaginative while deciding our names.
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