One trait I deeply admire in many animals, birds, and reptiles is their remarkable ability to camouflage—hiding in plain sight. The onset of the mango season inevitably brings with it the call of the koel. Its melodious cooing charms many hearts, mine included, yet catching a glimpse of the bird is almost impossible. Dark as the night, it blends so seamlessly with the foliage that it remains concealed even while its voice fills the air.

Last year, during my visit to Vadodara, I had the delightful opportunity to step into the Oil and Natural Gas Corporation campus. What awaited me there was a spectacle—dozens of peacocks captivating passersby and visitors alike. They flaunted their magnificent plumage and entertained onlookers with their playful antics. In the gentle rain, the birds strutted about with regal confidence, as though the lush green lawns and sprawling golf course belonged solely to them. It was hardly surprising then to see warning signs placed along the roadside that read, “Drive with caution—Peacocks on the move.”

This month, however, when I revisited the place, the scene was quite different. I could hardly spot a single peacock. Their calls—sharp cries and distant cawing—floated down from the tall trees, assuring me that they were indeed around. I was certain they were perched somewhere among the branches, cleverly concealed, yet despite my best efforts, I could not catch sight of even one. In the end, I found myself marvelling at nature’s wonder: that even such large birds, adorned with multi-hued plumes, possess the extraordinary ability to hide in plain sight.

We are familiar with animals, birds, and insects using camouflage as an essential survival strategy to avoid becoming prey. Creatures such as chameleons, toads, rattlesnakes, leopards, polar bears, stick insects, and geckos blend seamlessly into their surroundings to escape notice. Yet watching birds like peacocks hide so effortlessly in plain sight set me thinking. If nature has bestowed this remarkable ability on so many of its creations, could it be that every living being possesses some form of it? And if so, might humans, too, have their own way of camouflaging, an instinctive art of blending into situations, emotions, or surroundings, perhaps a skill many of us possess but remain unaware of?

The answer was neither innovative nor surprising. Humans, too, possess a remarkable ability to camouflage—not in colours or patterns like animals, but in behaviour and emotions. We often blend into our surroundings, masking our true feelings, hiding our fears, and concealing our vulnerabilities behind carefully chosen words, smiles, or silence. At times, we adapt ourselves to fit into social situations, workplaces, or relationships, becoming almost invisible to avoid conflict or scrutiny. This subtle art of blending in helps us survive the complexities of human society. 

Often, psychopaths, sociopaths, rapists, and murderers, too, hide in plain sight. They appear ordinary, even trustworthy, blending effortlessly into everyday life. Thus, the art of camouflage in human beings is not merely a survival instinct but sometimes a calculated strategy to conceal darker impulses and intentions. Behind polite smiles, respectable professions, and seemingly normal lives, some hide motives that remain invisible until it is too late.

Perhaps this is why we believe that human beings are superior to the lower animals.

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