The cellphone is the most insidious of intrusions, its distractive apps in no mean measure the cause of dystopian social relations. Its annoying, insistent buzz can be likened to a housefly whose destiny it is to never be swatted! The gentry born in the decades following Independence thanks the high heavens that for some decades it was spared the advent of this technological Frankenstein. But DIG, Ludhiana range, Sandeep Goel, a bird-loving cop who grew up in the princely state of Faridkot surrounded by peacocks, parakeets and sparrows among rambling red, royal buildings, nurtures a wistful variation.
“I wish we had handy cellphones in those days because I could have taken so many bird photos and captured such beautiful memories for posterity. How close we were to nature then, feeding bajra to the peacocks from our hands and rearing chicks that had fallen out of nests with food and water fed with ear droppers. Sparrows nested peacefully in our Faridkot house.
But now, when we have cellphones galore, everywhere I see trees being cut from grand old houses and sparrows evicted by modern construction. Only fading memories remain of a grand, bygone era that once brimmed with trees and birds,” Goel told this writer.
Goel is an uncommon species himself – a cop with a passion for shooting with a lens. There are a handful of Punjab Police officers like him. Howsoever few they may be, it is a welcome change from the era that lasted till the 1980s when a section of the Punjab Police earned notoriety by indulgence in mass poaching, especially of partridges (francolins). As many as 1,500 partridges would be netted and served at feasts hosted by senior officers to celebrate children’s weddings. Even now, there are whispers of poaching lobbies enjoying discreet patronage from a section of district police hierarchies.
The most prolific wildlife photographer in the Punjab Police was Mandeep Singh Sidhu, who retired as DIG, Patiala range, last year. Sidhu took up wildlife photography in 2006 after his wife, Dr Sukhmeen Sidhu, gifted him a camera. “It took me to renowned sanctuaries in India and African safaris. I spent my holidays during service on the wildlife trail. It was not easy, it would take hours to get a good photo. One had to be patient and understand animal behaviour. On two occasions, tigers mock-charged me, once while on elephant back. A rhino charged us in the Dudhwa National Park and it got too close for comfort. I could have literally touched its horn,” Sidhu, who was grievously wounded by terrorist bullets in an encounter in Gharinda (Amritsar) early on in his career, told this writer.
Sidhu and a young police officer, Harmeet Singh Hundal, earned the distinction of bringing out calendars enlivened by wildlife photography. Nangal, with its foothill jungles run through with veins of sparkling-blue canals, had so charmed a young DSP that it turned into a bird muse. “My passion for birds was kindled in Nangal some years after I entered service in 2001. There were so many of these bubbly little creatures flitting about. I bought a camera and later I purchased powerful binoculars to enhance security and surveillance, especially during CM tours. These binoculars I put to dual use by watching birds in my holidays and off-duty hours. With the Chandigarh Bird Club (CBC), I did birding in Ladakh and Spiti,” Hundal told this writer.
Hundal and two CBC birders secured a rare photographic record for the region, of a migratory Long-eared owl in the Dera Bassi area (December 2017). Hundal was then SP (investigation), Sangrur. He took premature retirement in 2023 while serving as DCP (investigation), Ludhiana, and immigrated to the US where he followed his passion for birding.