This morning a bird fell from the sky with a damaged wing. Not a fledgling but not fully an adult, a common Indian hawk. That's the generic name. On refining my search it is most likely to be a common hawk cuckoo, 'Brainfever' as it is popularly known owing to its call.
I'm not into ornithology. I like looking at birds. They are an industrious lot. Peacocks and other "elite" birds are fine because they are bestowed with glorious plumages, breath taking coloring, some with purposeful, strong beaks and others with fascinating crests. But a bird without beauty is beautiful too. I am intrigued by babblers. What do they have, really, just one indeterminate tawny color with some variation – like an embarrassing consolation! They keep babbling and they are busy picking this and that from here and there. A babbler is the underdog and I am the supporter of any underdog.
I used to take lunch at a garden cafe called The Neem Tree. There is in the garden a tree (don't know what tree) with intertwined branches. Many babblers get busy there, making commotion but a tolerable one. If you listen it doesn't jar. It's a short & sharp, high pitched but rather soft chirping. And it is ceaseless!
The babblers come closer when people eat there. On my lunch days I used to feed them sometimes. Just hold grains in my palm and wait for the babblers to pick from it. I have noticed that some other eaters fed them. An occasional maina with another for company waits at a distance wary of humans. Crows are even more suspicious but not babblers. They flocked close to my plate and took food grains from me. Feeding those birds is one of the most shantiful * feelings in my experience. I have strayed a bit. This is about ''Bal-mukund", the CHC which fell from the sky.
It made shrieking noises, of pain and fear, when I picked him. I brought him and made him temporary hospice in an Amazon carton. A soft cloth spread, some water provision and food (cooked rice & some meat). Except for checking on it from time to time I haven't disturbed it. Tonight is for Bal-mukund to get acclimatized to his new surroundings. He is calming down. When I tried feeding him with my hands he pecked at my fingers, taking the morsel but shaking it off from the beak. Droppings suggest that he eats sparingly. As the evening fell I cleared the food but left water there, made sure that he's safe. He seems ok, a little sad perhaps and may be lonely.
Tomorrow we shall tend to his broken wing.
(*The word "Shantiful" is my contribution to English. It means peaceful*)
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—Sunday 8.40 pm.—
BULLETIN
It is with a heavy heart I announce that the common hawk cuckoo breathed its last.
1 comment:
Hey that's sad!
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