A Tragic End 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
and playmates like Naseri,
Sukumar, Thomas,
Donson, Cross, 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
enlightened 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
went 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 over-flying airplanes gave
us so much delight in those bygone days.
My other passion was also about flying
-- to watch birds fly in the sky,
especially pigeons. Pigeons are one of
man's oldest feathered companions. They
date to antiquity! History informs 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 became
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 was 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.
Azhagai anecodotes
