How Kites and Eagles Have Mastered Urban India's Shifting Food Chain Without Human Help

Aishwarya Kapoor | Times Life Bureau | Jul 18, 2026, 07:45 IST
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How Kites and Eagles Have Mastered Urban India's Shifting Food Chain Without Human Help
How Kites and Eagles Have Mastered Urban India's Shifting Food Chain Without Human Help
Image credit : Times Life Bureau

Black kites circle above Crawford Market. Bonelli's eagles perch on water towers in Hyderabad. India's urban raptors, kites and eagles both, have quietly rewritten their foraging strategies to exploit the city without waiting for anyone to feed them. Here is the biology behind what looks, from below, like opportunism.

The thermal highway above hot concrete

Black kites (Milvus migrans) are among the most studied urban raptors on the planet, and India holds some of their densest city populations. A 2014 study published in PLOS ONE by researchers including Julien Martin found that black kites in cities exploit the same thermals that pigeons and crows use, but with a crucial difference. Kites read the heat signature of a city the way a sailor reads wind. The dark asphalt of a road in Nagpur or Chennai generates rising columns of warm air by mid-morning. Kites lock into these thermals and circle for hours, burning almost no energy while scanning a radius of several hundred metres below them.
This is not passive waiting. A kite in a thermal is foraging. Its eyes, capable of detecting contrast and movement at distances exceeding 200 metres, are processing the street below continuously. The moment a vendor drops a fish scrap near Dadar market or a truck spills offal near a slaughterhouse in Dharavi, the kite has already begun its descent. The thermal is the engine. The city's heat is the fuel.

Scavenging as precision biology

The word scavenging implies randomness. The feeding behaviour of urban kites is the opposite. Black kites in Indian cities have been documented performing what ornithologists call aerial kleptoparasitism, stealing food mid-air from other birds, at rates significantly higher than their rural counterparts. A crow lifts a piece of bread from a chai stall near a railway station. The kite, already positioned above, drops in a controlled stoop and takes it before the crow lands. The whole exchange takes under three seconds.
Their diet in cities has shifted measurably. Studies tracking urban kite populations across Delhi and Mumbai show a higher proportion of processed food waste, fish offal, and slaughterhouse by-products compared to rural populations, which rely more on small mammals and insects. The kite's beak, slightly hooked and designed for tearing, handles both equally well. What changed is the sourcing, not the anatomy.

Fish markets are anchor points. Kites know the schedule of the Crawford Market fish section in Mumbai and the Howrah fish market in Kolkata in the same way a regular customer does. They arrive when the cleaning begins, not when it ends. The timing is learned, passed between individuals through observation.

How eagles carved a separate niche

Bonelli's eagles (Aquila fasciata) and Shikras (Accipiter badius) occupy a different layer of the urban food web. Where kites are generalist scavengers, these raptors are active predators, and the city has given them something their forest habitat never offered in this concentration: pigeons.
Feral pigeon populations in Indian cities run into the tens of millions. For a Bonelli's eagle, a city like Hyderabad or Pune is not a degraded habitat, it is a stocked larder. The eagle hunts from a high perch, typically a water tower, a high-tension pylon, or the parapet of a multi-storey building. It watches pigeon flocks on rooftops below. When a flock takes off, the eagle drops into the scatter, targeting a bird at the edge. The technique is identical to what the species uses in rocky scrubland, applied to a concrete cliff face.

Shikras, smaller and faster, hunt sparrows and mynas through the gaps between buildings with the same agility they use in dense forest. The urban grid, with its lanes and compound walls, functions like a woodland edge. The bird does not know the difference. It is responding to cover, sight lines, and prey density, all of which the city provides in abundance.

What the city has changed in their behaviour

The most striking adaptation is not dietary. It is temporal. Urban raptors across India show a measurable shift toward crepuscular activity, foraging earlier in the morning and later in the evening than their rural counterparts. The reason is human traffic. A kite that swoops on a food scrap at 7 a.m. near a busy vegetable market in Jaipur faces less competition and less human disturbance than one attempting the same at noon. Over generations, the birds most successful at exploiting off-peak hours left more offspring. The behaviour consolidated.
Nesting has also adapted. Black kites in Delhi regularly incorporate plastic bags, wire, and synthetic string into their nests alongside the traditional twigs and leaves. This is not preference, it is availability. The nests are structurally sound. The birds are using what the city provides, not what a field guide says they should use.

The deeper shift is in boldness. Urban kites in India tolerate human proximity at distances that would send a rural bird into flight. A kite at a Mumbai fish market will land within four metres of a working vendor. This is not tameness. The bird is reading a specific human as non-threatening based on repeated exposure. Remove the apron and the fish smell, and the same bird maintains a much larger buffer. The adaptation is contextual, not general.
What these birds demonstrate, without any assistance from conservation programmes or feeding initiatives, is that the urban environment selects for intelligence at least as much as for physical traits. The kites and eagles thriving above Indian cities are not survivors of the city, they are students of it.