The Indian Pitta, also known as ‘Navrang’, has always eluded me. And, as you know, people tend to go crazy after the things that elude them. This was certainly the case with me. I always wanted to see the Indian Pitta.
I had been to many birding spots in search of the Indian Pitta but, alas, it always seemed to be one step ahead of me. In this frenzy, I might have daydreamed, or did I actually spot one? I still do not know.
It happened on one of my trips to Devgad. While we were driving through the mango orchards, a bird swiftly flew from one side of the road to the other. Its body structure was plump and rounded, with an almost non-existent tail. The underparts seemed to be somewhat ochre, or perhaps some lighter shade of brown.
I immediately stopped and followed the direction in which it had flown. But nothing after that. We waited there for a long time. We returned to the same spot every day during our stay, yet there was no further sighting.
There was no conclusion, just my blind guess that it might have been an Indian Pitta. Though the season was appropriate for a sighting, I was not sure about the location, as I had no data or records of Indian Pitta sightings in that area. (Read my Devgad stories.)
Meanwhile, I tried for an Indian Pitta sighting in other places, but again, I either missed the timing or simply missed out on luck.
The next year, with a faint hope tucked away in a deep corner of my heart, we went to Devgad again. On reaching the same spot, I became hopeful, but there was absolutely no sign of a Pitta.
During that trip, I heard the song of a Pitta in one of the mango orchards adjoining the bay. I immediately played a reply call from my phone. There was a response—just once—and then, alas! Even after repeated calls, there was absolutely no response.
After that, I never had another opportunity, nor another hallucination (as my husband calls these experiences).
I simply kept seeing and reading about Pitta sightings here and there. During the season, there are multiple Pitta sightings in OMH every year. (Read my post on OMH.) I watched the photographs shared by birders on the WhatsApp group, wishing I could be there. But I couldn’t take the time to visit during the Pitta season.
In this way, years passed by.
The Indian Pitta even eluded me in Thattekad this time. (Read my post on Thattekad.)
Finally, this year, a friend told me about a place that the Indian Pitta visits every year.
Where to Find the Indian Pitta
In a small village in the Ratnagiri district, there is a homestay that hosts the Indian Pitta every year.
That was enough to get me interested.
I immediately made up my mind and started keeping myself updated about news of the Indian Pitta’s arrival. As soon as I heard that the birds had arrived, I made plans for a weekend visit.
There was, however, a small catch.
The particular homestay also organises regular summer camps for children, which meant that rooms and cottages were in high demand. Luckily, we managed to get one on our chosen dates.
And so, after years of searching, we were finally on our way to meet the elusive Indian Pitta.
The Indian Pitta (Navrang) and the Passerine Family
Commonly known as the Navrang because of its striking palette of colours, the Indian Pitta (Pitta brachyura) is a passerine species native to the Indian subcontinent.
In simple terms, passerines are perching birds—a massive family that includes more than half of all bird species on Earth, from everyday backyard songbirds like sparrows and crows to exotic species like the pitta.
What sets them apart is their specialised foot structure. They have three toes pointing forward and one strong toe pointing backwards. This acts like an automatic clamp, allowing them to grip twigs, branches and vertical stems tightly without falling off, even while sleeping.
While many passerines are famous for their complex songs, the Indian Pitta relies on a distinctive, clear two-note whistle, usually heard at sunrise and sunset, to communicate.
These birds inhabit a variety of environments, including thick evergreen jungles, scrublands and deciduous forests. They spend their breeding months in the northern Himalayan foothills and the central-western hills before travelling south to peninsular India once winter sets in.
Because of their timid nature, these bright birds are rarely seen out in the open. They prefer to remain camouflaged in dense undergrowth, hopping along the ground in search of forest-floor insects.
The Anatomy, Behaviour and Twilight Calls of the Indian Pitta
The Indian Pitta is easily recognised by its compact, short-tailed body, elongated sturdy legs and robust beak.
Its striking plumage features a pale-buff stripe down the centre of the head, bordered by dark crown stripes, a bold black band running across the eyes and a clean white throat.
Its back and wings display a rich green colour, while the tail is a vibrant blue. The underside is primarily a warm buff tone, dramatically contrasting with a bright crimson patch on the lower abdomen and undertail area.
Interestingly, researchers believe that the thickness of the dark head stripes may help differentiate males from females.
Because the Indian Pitta searches for food primarily amidst leaf litter, it spends much of its time hopping across the forest floor or navigating thick, low-level vegetation in search of insects.
Unfortunately, this strictly ground-dwelling lifestyle also makes the species vulnerable to ground-based traps that are sometimes set for small mammals.
This elusive bird is far more frequently detected by its voice than by sight. It produces a remarkably loud, characteristic two-tone whistle that sounds like ‘wheeet-tieu’. It can also produce a three-note variation or a sharp, single-note mewing sound.
When making these calls, the Pitta adopts a dramatic posture, throwing its head backwards and pointing its beak straight up towards the sky.
They are also known for an intriguing social habit of calling out at dawn and dusk, which frequently prompts neighbouring Pittas to respond.
Nesting Habits of the Indian Pitta
The breeding season for these birds coincides with the southwest monsoon, spanning from June through August. Peak nesting activities occur in central India during June and shift towards northern regions by July.
They construct a dome-shaped, spherical nest with a single side entrance, positioning it either directly on the forest floor or among low-hanging tree branches. The structure is woven entirely from dried foliage and grasses.
Within these nests, females lay a clutch of four to five highly polished, round white eggs, uniquely decorated with deep purple or maroon speckles and dots.
Our First Indian Pitta Sighting
Armed with all this information about the Pitta, we arrived at our homestay in a small village nestled within a green, forested area.
Our hosts welcomed us into their ancestral home, now converted into a homestay, with a few cottages for guests.
Their traditional wada-style home formed the older part of the house, with an adjoining family temple at the entrance. It was a beautiful setting that immediately transported us to another world, far away from the hustle and bustle of city life.
A green courtyard with a handful of cottages opened out onto their large ancestral land. The surroundings, the cottages and the rooms all blended beautifully with nature.
The rooms were clean and simple, with all the basic amenities. You cannot expect—and neither did we—luxury in a forest. Sometimes, luxury simply feels out of place in such natural surroundings.
There were bird songs coming from every corner.
We could hardly wait to put down our luggage and set out to explore the area.
And then we heard it.
‘Wheeet-tieu.’
At once, we recognised the call. It was the Indian Pitta.
Following the sound, we crossed the courtyard and reached the mango orchard. The bird flew farther away, and we followed. Beyond the orchard, in the forested area, we saw them moving from one branch to another.
There was a call from one branch, followed by a response from another. Then another.
Suddenly, there were calls coming from multiple directions, and we could not focus on just one.
And finally, there it was.
Our first-ever Indian Pitta.
Then what?
It was raining Indian Pittas!
That evening, before sunset, we had our very own Indian Pitta time.
The host of the homestay also accompanied us and told us how the Indian Pittas visit the watering area of their garden every morning.
We were immensely happy that we could finally see the Indian Pitta—and that too, in multiple numbers.
After years of chasing this elusive bird, we had finally found it.
A Day Among Indian Pittas and Forest Birds
We spent the next day with the Indian Pittas and the other birds of the property.
There was something wonderfully satisfying about watching them in their natural surroundings. After so many failed attempts and missed opportunities, we no longer had to search desperately for a glimpse. They were simply there.
That day, a group of children also arrived for their summer camp. With the house full of children and guests, the hosts arranged a cultural evening after dinner.
It was called ‘Lathi-Kathi-Banathi’.
Lathi, Kathi and Banathi: A Traditional Maharashtrian Art
Lathi, Kathi and Banathi are traditional Maharashtrian martial art forms that showcase incredible agility, rhythm and combat heritage.
Lathi focuses on precise striking and defensive blocking techniques using a long wooden staff.
Banathi expands on this by incorporating high-speed, continuous spinning movements, where practitioners twirl a staff—often with both ends set ablaze—in mesmerising circular patterns.
Deeply rooted in the warrior traditions of Maharashtra, these arts are passionately performed today during cultural festivals such as Shivjayanti, serving as powerful symbols of historical bravery, focus and physical mastery.
The locals from the village gave us an incredible performance.
From children to the elderly, everyone participated in the show. They showcased their immense agility and skill as they performed with fire, creating a spectacle that was both thrilling and deeply rooted in tradition.
These traditional art forms are gradually disappearing, which made witnessing the performance even more special.
We had come to this little village in search of one elusive bird.
We left with much more.
The Indian Pitta, which had eluded me for years, had finally given me not just one sighting but an entire stay of unforgettable encounters. And along with it came the warmth of a traditional homestay, the beauty of a forest filled with bird calls, and an unexpected glimpse into the cultural heritage of the village.
Sometimes, the best birding trips are not just about the bird you set out to find.
They are about everything you discover along the way.
And this time, the elusive Indian Pitta had made the wait completely worthwhile.
What a great trip!
Yes, It was actually a great trip Mick. Thank you