Red-wattled Lapwing (Vanellus indicus).
In Coorg, when dusk settles over the paddy fields and the mist begins its slow descent from the hills, most of the times-you will hear it before you see it.
“Uppu… theethi… uppu… theethi…”
So the Kodavas named it — not from books, not from Latin, but from listening. A name born of sound, carried by air, shaped by ear. The Red-wattled lapwing became Uppu Theethi — the salt-and-fire bird that cries its own identity into the evening.
It stands long-legged in the open fields, never hiding in thick trees like timid birds. It prefers bare earth, riverbanks, ploughed land — places where the world is exposed. Its red wattles glow like embers against its black-and-white body, as though it carries a small warning lamp on its face.
For Uppu Theethi is not merely a caller — it is a sentinel.
If you wander too close to where its eggs lie on the ground — mere speckled stones disguised as life — it will not attack you. Instead, it performs a drama. It limps away, dragging a wing as though broken, crying louder, more urgently:
“Did-you-do-it? Did-you-do-it?”
It pretends injury to draw danger away from its nest. A master of deception, not for self-preservation, but for protection. When the intruder follows the feigned weakness, it suddenly rises strong and swift, circling high, scolding the sky.
Even at night it does not sleep easily. Under moonlight it calls again — sharp, insistent, restless. Farmers say it announces visitors. Children say it questions the dark.
And so in Coorg, Uppu Theethi is more than a bird.
It is the voice of vigilance.
The guardian of open fields.
The small, fierce heart that refuses silence.
In its cry is sound.
In its stance is courage.
In its theatre is love.
And in its name — given by listening — lies a quiet reminder:
The land speaks first.
We only learn to echo it.
Shot in Coorg, Karnataka, Nikon Gears, Mar 2026 © Dr.Bishan Monnappa
In early days, Kodavu province was covered by evergreen thick forests. Only few patches of paddy fields and cardamom grown valleys known as Yaala-Males). Coffee entered Kodagu later after British era 1834 on wards.
So our ancestors enjoyed sound sleep at night in their Hut called Ainmane of kodava clan, quietly hearing to the serene, rhythmic symphony of a forest sounds of insects is thrilling experience in Kodavu even now.
At night time,after sunset,this natural soundscape a blend of chirping crickets, buzzing cicadas, and rasping katydids—creates a tranquil, and healing ambiance naturally designed for relaxation, sleep, and meditation.
In the day time, bird sounds are melodious music for Kodavu people with their unique tone and pitch, warble, trill, chatter, and whistle.
While small tiny birds chirp,few musician birds make rhythmic melodies of sound as background music, few birds sing a song, few make tweet or cheep high pitched sounds.
Hence birds are like natural musician troop entertaining other species including humans.
Few bird sounds are like owls-hoots, ducks-quacks,crows-cawing,coo-coo of pigeons acts like natural woodwind,percussion instruments and natural Aerophones.
It’s hard to explain through words,
one should enjoy that live !
Thanks to Dr. Bishan Monnappa for this special article & photographs.
Beautiful write-up!