I AM a mallard. If you don’t know what a mallard is, look at my picture and you will know what a mallard looks like. But don’t call me a duck. I am one all right, just as you are a human being. How would you feel if people started calling you “Aadmi” instead of referring to by your name? There is another similarity between you and me. I too belong to a rather snobbish species. I don’t like to be seen with other ducks, my humble cousins.
I love travelling long distance. But, unlike you, I don’t take a commercial flight. I rely on my own two wings. Every winter, I leave my native Siberia and am airborne southwards. It is a long but enjoyable flight to the wetland of Haleji, 88 kilometres from the city of Karachi. The route I and other travellers like me take is called Flyway 4, or the Indus Flyway on the international migratory bird map. Incidentally, this map was not drawn by a bird, for we do not need a map when we travel. We have a much better sense of direction than your best explorers could ever boast of.
Let me tell you a thing or two about this place, Haleji. It is a body of water that was formed by rains which collected in a depression. Over the years, it became silted and slushy. It also became the favourite haunt of a number of feathered creatures — divers, dabblers, surface and deep water feeders, and other water lovers.
Came World War II, and water was needed for the British troops stationed in Karachi. In order to provide this precious liquid, salt water was drained out, an embankment constructed around the lake and fresh water brought by canals into the lake. In due course, Haleji became a favourite destination for travellers like us — mallards, pochards, shovellers, pintails and others.
There are others who live here all the year round — coots, cormorants, egrets, moorhens, herons, godwits, lapwings, stilts, waterhens, jacanas, gulls. They are called resident birds. Those who make their presence felt due to their large size are pelicans, storks and flamingos. You can see them from a long distance. Some species behave like humans; they indulge in land grabbing. A few labia groups have occupied whole islands. You have a Pelican Island and a Cormorant Island in Haleji.
There are others who live at the cost of others. That is, in order to live, they must kill. These “terrorists” are classified as ‘birds of prey’ by scientists. Just like the Karachi boys who give fancy names to themselves, like ‘Commando’, ‘TT’, ‘Lumba’, ‘Mota’, ‘Kunkata’ etc., these birds of prey too have impressive names like Osprey, Buzzard, Harrier, Falcon, Fish Eagle, Brahminy Kite, etc.
But it is amazing what a cosmopolitan place this Haleji Lake is. No less than 222 different species have been recorded within its immediate environs. Though not a bird of prey in the technical sense of the word, the writer of this story of mine used to be a trigger-happy man once. He was told in his childhood that to pick up the gun and shoot birds was a manly thing to do. So, he came to Haleji and shot our folks. In later years, however, when Haleji was declared a wildlife sanctuary by the government under the Sindh Wildlife Protection Ordinance 1972, he stopped being a hunter, for he knew he would be caught and punished by the game watchers. He became a conservationist and started preaching that wildlife should be preserved for “future generations”.
I am a mallard and man has been my worst enemy. But I don’t mind speaking for men and advocating that, just as there is a Wildlife Protection Ordinance for animals and birds, there should be a “Protection Ordinance” for the people of Karachi as well, so that they stop shooting each other. So that their future generation is preserved.
Coming back to Haleji Lake, let me tell you that like all other things in the Islamic Republic of Pakistan, things are real bad at Haleji Lake too. Just as the PML and the PPP want total control over the country, there is a tussle between Sind Wildlife Management Board and Karachi Water and Sewerage Board for total control of the Lake. Karachi Development Authority was also in the run, but due to poor “mandate”, withdrew from the contest honourably. Why must everyone in this country — from the highest and the mightiest to the lowest and the weakest — aspire for total control over things? Why can’t they just do their own thing, their duty and be happy about it?
But, I suppose, they have their own reasons. The KDA wanted control over the place because it was they who had spent money on developing it. The SWMB want control over the Lake because they are the ones who invited the Duke of Edinburgh to inaugurate the SWMB Centre at the Lake. They are also responsible for the protection of the Lake’s denizens. The KWSB want control because they bring water from the Lake to Karachi to quench the thirst of its inhabitants.
The unfortunate part of this conflict is that in this tug-of-war, we, the inhabitants of the Lake, are made to suffer. I am saddened to report that the Lake is badly neglected. It is full of weeds. There is deficiency of oxygen in its water. Illegal fishing by influential people with political backing goes on. Commercial fishing and mass movement of fishermen in the Lake area distrubs the migratory birds, but the autorities are unconcerned about it.
And yes, I forgot to tell you how much we, the feathered people of Haleii Lake, admire this English gentleman, Mr Thomas Jones Roberts who has looked at us with nothing but affection in his eyes. He has noted our vital statistics and written volumes about us. This grand old man is the recipient of the President of WWF International Award for Conservation Merit 1982, and is the author of The Mammals of Pakistan, and editor of the Mammal Section of the Encyclopaedia of Indian Natural History.
Tom Roberts first came to Pakistan in 1946, a year before Independence, and retired in 1984 after running his own cotton business in Punjab. Tom Roberts makes exquisite bird sketches and has illustrated both the first and second volumes of his book The Birds of Pakistan.
I AM a mallard. If you don’t know what a mallard is, look at my picture and you will know what a mallard looks like. But don’t call me a duck. I am one all right, just as you are a human being. How would you feel if people started calling you “Aadmi” instead of referring to by your name? There is another similarity between you and me. I too belong to a rather snobbish species. I don’t like to be seen with other ducks, my humble cousins.
