Long back in time, at Azhagappapuram, when I was a little boy, I used to be passionate about quite a few things in life then. One of those was to sit with friends in our pial or in the West Car street tomb sills at night and watch airplanes flying in Azhagai's star-lit night sky with their lights blinking. They were obviously planes flying between Colombo and places afar in the west. The whirr of the jet engines and the planes' cross-like silhouette seen from ground would give us youngsters sheer joy. We loved to see that sight day after day. We at times imagined if we would ever get the experience of being onboard such planes. We used to be inquisitive about aero planes and their ability to fly without falling. We tried hard to know the mechanics of flying. For long we did not have an answer.

   At last, it was our science teacher at school, who elucidated one day how the application of Newton's Laws of Motion enabled airplanes to fly. He also informed us that man must have been inspired by birds to invent and fly airplanes. By then a Tamil lyricist penned a verse which had this connotation. It proved to be a hit number then. We even knew by heart the exact time at which a plane would pass through the Azhagai sky. After a plane had gone out of sight completely, we would then go back to our usual games like hide-and-seek or go home to study. We led a typical village life. We had limited privileges in such a life; which was why even an
over-flying airplane gave us so much delight in those bygone days.

   My other passion was also about flying -- to watch birds flying in the sky, especially pigeons. Pigeons are one of man's oldest feathered companions. They date to antiquity! History enlightens us that ancient civilizations used pigeons in a great network of advanced communication. They kept emperors in touch with the most remote areas of their lands. Pigeons are capable of flying farther and faster.

   On a balmy Sunday morning at Azhagappauram, around forty years ago, as I lay lazily on my back on a hay stack; my eyes were riveted to a tiny figure almost immobile high up in the bluish sky with its wings gently flapping. It was my favorite pigeon on its routine morning flying odyssey. It was my routine as well to enjoy myself watching the whitish little pigeon fly hours on tirelessly diving and somersaulting, at times.

   The bird belonged to my cousin, who was meticulously tendering a flock of such splendid birds in his specially built pigeon house. They were of a rare species and needed utmost care and attention. Many of his pigeons were capable of marathon flying, racing and performing certain scintillating acrobatic feats in the air. Pigeon is a bird of strength and beauty, with tenacity and endurance and the consummate ability to orient.

   Most of my morning hours on Sundays and holidays at this point of time were devoted wholly to watching avidly those rare pigeons flying. Such a habit also gave me a lot of peace and solitude to ruminate on the mystery of nature and its amazing creatures.

   On that particular Sunday late morning, with the weather being superb and ideal, my exquisite pleasure of watching the pigeon fly high knew no bounds. It was so absorbing that I had skipped by breakfast and usual chores.

   Until then I had no idea at all what was going to befall on the graceful little bird. As the pigeon continued flying, I saw with dismay a falcon take off from its hiding perch on the crown of a towering coconut tree standing besides the stream running down to Chenkulam through Thappakulam. It accelerated its speed and was fast approaching the pigeon. Sensing imminent danger, I impulsively screamed "escape." But the falcon flew so deceptively that the pigeon did not see it until it was too late and too close to react. The falcon attacked the pigeon. Feathers flew. The pigeon dived and somersaulted trying to escape from being struck again by the falcon. The pursuer more than matched its prey's alacrity and skills. It too dived in the air and was in direct pursuit of its prey in powered, flapping flight in attempt to overtake and grab its prey.

   After a while, the pigeon become exhausted flying and diving too fast and too long. The falcon struck it again with its sharp beak and claws and almost captured it to be taken to its plucking perch.

   In its last ditch effort to flee, the terrified pigeon somehow managed to nose dive and fall in the backyard of a house. The surprised and thwarted falcon ceased its pursuit and flew away to the coconut grove.

   The dramatic events in the sky had also been noticed by the pigeon's owner and a few others. There was a commotion as they started searching for the wounded bird. I too joined the team and we went in different directions to retrieve and perk up the pet. We found it at last in a firewood stack. It had been badly hurt with blood oozing from the claw cuts and beak bites of the vicious falcon. We gave first aid and tried to resuscitate the pigeon. Sadly, it succumbed to its injuries. We were distressed and the sense of loss profound.

   What a tragic end to an amazing bird and its wonderful skills! We had lost a fascinating pigeon that enthralled us more than a year with its style and immense flying prowess. It took us many days to recover from the jolt.

   This episode also effectively put an end to my bird watching habit as my mind could not reconcile to the awful loss of the star bird. Even today, if I see a bird flying high,  I wish it a safe flight and return.