Sheikh's Last Stoop & Other Avian Tales

By Pushpa Kurup

Each of the 9 short stories in this book is narrated by a different bird and the message of conservation forms a common thread. The earth is their home too and humans are their co-tenants, yet the march of modernity threatens the survival of one and all. As these humble creatures tell their stories, they cry out to us to stop and think for a moment....

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pushpa Kurup
• Release date: Sep 10, 2015
• ISBN: 9781310354533

Pushpa Kurup

Lives in Trivandrum, India. Works in the Information Technology sector.

Book preview

Sheikh’s Last Stoop

& Other Avian Tales

Pushpa Kurup

First Published in September 2015

Copyright © 2015 Pushpa Kurup

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning or otherwise except as permitted by law or with the prior written permission of the author.

Readers should be aware that internet websites offered as citations and/or sources for further information may have changed or disappeared between the time this was written and when it is read.

Limit of Liability/Disclaimer of Warranty: While the author and the publisher have put in their best efforts in preparing this book, they make no representations or warranties with respect to the accuracy or completeness of the contents of this book and specifically disclaim any implied warranties of merchantability or fitness for a particular purpose. Neither the publisher nor the author shall be liable for any loss of profit or any other commercial damages, including but not limited to special, incidental, consequential or other damages.

Cover Design by Praveen V.P.

ISBN: 9781310354533

for the little people in my life-----------------------------------------------------------

Sitara

Sarisha

Sahil

Kavita

Rohit

Siddhant

Sameera

CONTENTS

Sheikh’s Last Stoop

Black Beauty’s Fair Adventure

The Hungry Chick

The Escapist

Scavenger in Distress

The Linguist’s Loss

Caw! Caw! Cacophony!

The Proudest Creature on Earth

On the Brink of Extinction

Acknowledgments

References

1

Sheikh’s Last Stoop

I hear the familiar roar of the master’s BMW. From my perch on the roof of the green tiled villa I watch as the car sweeps into the driveway and comes to a stop. Khalid emerges from the driver’s seat and walks briskly to the front door, his spotless white khandura flapping at his ankles in the light winter breeze. The white ghutrah on his head is held in place by a black agal, a double rope-like cord, completing the traditional Arab ensemble.

As I move to welcome the master I’m taken aback to see another peregrine falcon perched on his right shoulder. I hover around undecided. Should I alight on Khalid’s left shoulder? Or on one of his wrists?

I slyly eye the newcomer, a dark female, who’s considerably larger than I am.

‘Hi there!’ Her voice is music to my ears. I’ve been lonely for so long.

‘Asalaam alaikum!’ I respond politely. I expect her to say ‘Walaikkum salam,’ but she doesn’t. I wonder if she understands Arabic.

I gingerly perch on Khalid’s left forearm making sure my talons don’t injure him. He wears no gauntlet or gloves. Khalid is strong and sturdy and has a dignified bearing. His lean bearded countenance is handsome in a rugged way. He has piercing eyes just like us falcons.

Khalid gently strokes my head, his touch reassuring. I throw the newcomer a sharp glance. She looks back at me brazenly.

The master’s wife, Hamda, materializes on the doorstep and squeals in delight on seeing the novel acquisition.

‘Wow! A Shaheen falcon! How much did you pay for her, Khalid?’

‘A hundred thousand dirhams, my dear! She’s a present for your birthday!’

‘Shukran! Shukran, Khalid! I love you so much!’ She gives him a bear hug after carefully looking around to make sure none of the children or servants are around. Then she ushers us into the house and closes the door. She calls out to the maid to bring a weighing machine and Khalid places the new bird on it and checks her weight.

I wonder why he doesn’t check Hamda’s weight. She seems to be growing larger every day. She has a pretty face though, with large black eyes, thick eyebrows and red lips. Her skin is creamy white and she has voluminous black hair which she keeps covered with a black cloth.

Falconers have to make sure their falcons maintain an optimum weight. An underweight bird will be weak, ineffective, and unnecessarily aggressive, while an overweight bird may be unresponsive, reluctant to hunt, and likely to fly away.

An inseparable part of Arabian lifestyle and tradition, falconry has been practiced in the Middle East since the 7th century B.C. This sport may have originated in Mesopotamia around 2000 B.C., as it is mentioned in the Epic of Gilgamesh. Widely practiced for over 3000 years, first by the nomads of Central Asia and later by the Bedouins of the Arabian Peninsula, falconry reached Europe around 400 A.D. It surfaced in the United States very recently.

With the advent of firearms, falconry suffered a severe setback because humans no longer needed us to assist them in hunting. Today it has been reduced to a mere pastime, using mostly red-tailed hawks, Harris hawks, American kestrels and northern goshawks. In the United States a license is required to practice falconry. A falconer must pass an examination, set up adequate facilities and serve a two-year apprenticeship in order to be eligible for a license.

Hamda doesn’t take her eyes off the newcomer. ‘Let’s call her Sultana,’ she suggests. ‘I’m sure Abu will be glad to have her company.’

That’s me. They call me Abu. But I don’t like the name. I prefer to call myself Sheikh.

I’m a Maltese or Mediterranean falcon, one of the nineteen species of falcons that occur worldwide. I’ve an aristocratic bearing, a black head, a blue-grey back, yellow feet and a barred white belly. My upper beak is notched at the tip, enabling me to sever the spinal column of my prey with a quick, neat nip. I prey upon nearly two thousand species of birds, often consuming fur or feathers to cleanse my crop and regurgitating the stuff later in the form of round pellets. Incidentally, the Quran mentions that quarry caught by trained falcons is halal meat.

But what’s really special about me is that I’m the fastest creature on the planet. The swift and the cheetah are ranked second and third, but they’re considerably slower. I can attain a speed of 322 kilometres per hour during a high speed dive or ‘hunting stoop’ as it’s called.

‘I’m Sheikh,’ I announce pompously, trying to impress Sultana.

‘But I heard them call you Abu.’

‘My original name is Sheikh. That’s what they called me before I came to Ras al Khaimah,’ I lie glibly.

‘Okay, I’ll call you Sheikh if that’s what you prefer,’ she concedes, adding, ‘Tell me about this place.’

‘Ras al Khaimah is one of the seven emirates that make up the United Arab Emirates, the others being Abu Dhabi, Dubai, Sharjah, Ajman, Fujairah and Umm al Quwain,’ I explain.

Sultana listens attentively. Feeling encouraged, I continue, ‘Ras al Khaimah was engaged in the pearling industry for many centuries. Once notorious as the Pirate Coast, the UAE was virtually controlled by the Portuguese before the arrival of the British. When the British gained ascendancy they suppressed piracy and abolished the slave trade.’

‘Do people still dive for pearls?’ Sultana is curious to know.

‘Not anymore,’ I reply. ‘The pearling industry collapsed in the early 20th century following the Great Depression and the Japanese invention of the cultured pearl. Fortunately, the oil boom occurred soon thereafter, saving the country from imminent collapse. In 1962 the first cargo of crude oil was exported from Abu Dhabi.’

‘And the rest is history!’ Sultana adds exultantly.

‘True! The UAE was never the same again,’ I agree wholeheartedly. ‘It gained independence in 1971. The Burj al Khalifa, the world’s tallest building, that dominates the landscape of Dubai, stands testimony to the oil wealth of this nation and the resilience of its people.’

‘And the peregrine falcon is the national animal, symbolizing power, speed and action,’ Sultana concludes.

‘Tell me about your yourself, Sultana,’ I suggest earnestly.

‘I’m also called Indian peregrine falcon or Black Shaheen. My home is in Sri Lanka, near the Sigiriya rock fortress. There are very few of us left in Sri Lanka - less than 50 breeding pairs.’

‘There’s a Sri Lankan housemaid here,’ I tell her. ‘She’s been with the family ever since the first child was born. Hamda’s very fond of her.’

Sultana shows no interest in the maid. ‘I love Sri Lanka,’ she sighs wistfully. ‘It’s an exotic island in the Indian Ocean, separated from mainland India by the Palk Strait and