As the sun sets, a solitary Koels song pierces above the Azaan leaving the air heavy with melancholy.
I try to trace the screeching back to the parakeets but their camouflage is impeccable.
The Crows on the other hand are not as subtle.
They crowd the tanki, trying to muscle me out. Never underestimate the Crow, they regularly chase away Kites if they get too close.
While the Kites effortlessly ride the thermals, the smaller Bats struggle against every errant gust of wind as they perform their nightly service of pest control.
Like clockwork, as the sun is sinking into the sea, large flocks of Darters, Egrets and other waders (including a single Painted Stork) fly overhead on their way to the water body in Pawan Hans.
And from a distant tree a second Koel answers.
